"Would you like to make a statement?" Ms. Ortiz, the CPS caseworker asks Sam after looking at the marks in various stages of healing on the abdomen of the thin 14-year-old boy standing in front of her clutching his shirt in front of him. Dean tries to put his shirt back on, but one of the deputies stops him and takes it away.

"We need photos, son," the deputy says firmly, but kindly, as the CPS caseworker takes a digital camera out of her bag. Dean sighs and looks pleadingly at his brother. Dean has been on such an emotional roller coaster the past three days, he's hoping Sam will come up with the right words because there is no way he intends to go quietly if they try to haul him away. He tries to put every bit of the desperation he feels into that glance.

Sam recognizes the appeal and the resolve in his brother's eyes. "Of course I'll make any kind of statement you want. My brother is still recovering from the accident that killed our father. We're sorry if his scars alarmed any one, but he is not being abused. Please, Ma'am, we are going through enough right now without being separated."

Dean gives his brother a grateful look. "Sam had nothing to do with any of these marks, and that's the God's honest truth. He's my brother, and I, umm, I need him." Ms. Ortiz watches the looks the brothers exchange and makes a decision. What they said is plausible, none of the marks looks within three days recent, and the guardianship paperwork speaks of a family tragedy.

"Okay, boys. I am going to leave Dean here, but we have a few things you'll need to do before I can just walk away." She watches their smiles blossom and sees their faces fall again. "I'm sure you understand that we have to be very careful, Mr. Singer. So, Dean needs to come in for a full medical checkup within a week. He'll need to talk to a counselor the same day to see how he's doing emotionally, and we'll want to see his educational records and some proof that you have him in a school program."

She hands Sam a business card and a pamphlet with instructional information. "Call these numbers to make the arrangements, Mr. Singer."

This time Sam stops her. "Just call me Sam," he starts. "I'm wondering why, if you can tell these marks aren't recent, that you aren't dropping this altogether?" Sam has been trying to dredge up every bit of family case law he can remember, but it all seems to come down on her side.

Ms. Ortiz smiles at the honesty of the question. "Well, Sam, even if you have recently gained custody of your brother, you are young to be in charge of a teenager. We know you don't have him currently enrolled in school, a state law – but that could be that you just moved – plus, you are staying at a hotel without any type of available support system. "

Dean interrupts her, "A support system? You mean like additional family? Because that's one of the reasons we are moving here, isn't it, Sam. Because we have our godfather here."

Trying not to appear puzzled by what Dean is going on about, Sam says, "I don't know if the state considers that the same as family, Dean." He's not quite sure where Dean is going with this story, and feels like he's being rescued himself when he hears a knock on the outer door.

"See, he's here right now. We're getting dinner, and I think we're going house hunting this weekend." Dean is trying to sound like what he thinks a normal happy, well-adjusted teenager might sound. Sam's glad to be able to have something else to do because he might roll his eyes otherwise as he opens the door to Castiel.

The angel looks around at every person in the room, as though performing a threat assessment, before he stops in front of Dean and furrows his brows. "Hello Dean, why are you standing around half dressed in a room full of strangers?" Dean blushes and grabs his shirt out of the deputy's hands, pulling it on quickly. Cas nods in approval, and then adds, "Would someone tell me what's going on?"

Ms. Ortiz introduces herself to Cas, pleased to see there is an adult in their lives, but she and the deputies excuse themselves leaving it up to Sam and Dean to explain things to Cas.

"Our godfather, Dean? That's the best you could come up with?" Sam asks him when he comes back from locking the door behind the group and flops into a chair.

"Well, I didn't hear you come up with anything better, college boy, and it wasn't you being threatened with removal for your own safety," Dean snaps at him. "What did you expect me to say? We're here with the angel that pulled me and my brother outta hell? Fuck, Sam. A full physical? Talk to a shrink? Enroll me in school? Just shoot me now, please!" Then Dean turns toward Cas. "Please tell me you found the fairy and this nightmare will soon be behind me."

Castiel stares at Dean for a moment, tilting his head slightly to the side. "Dean, where did all those injuries come from?"

"They came with the body, a complete set," Dean snipes. "Now, tell me…"

"No," says Cas, interrupting him. "I am not finished. What exactly were the police doing in your room? I did not understand your message clearly and was a bit distracted trying to listen while dealing with the Seelie Court. And what do you mean by introducing me as a godfather?"

Dean huffs out a breath, so Sam sums up the situation to Castiel. "And a godfather is someone who is charged with a kid's spiritual education and well-being, if the kid's parents die." Sam knows he over-simplified things, but Cas gets the idea. He seems to like it too, from fond smile he gives both the boys at the explanation.

Staying on task though, Cas asks "And the full physical examination? Will this show additional problems?" Dean grunts out an affirmative. "Then let's fix as much as we can." Cas lays his hands on Dean's shoulder and begins healing with a deep look of concentration on his face. Dean's face contorts with pain for a minute while Cas uses his grace to heal him. After that, they both sit down.

"So, between you avoiding my question and the healing session, I'm guessing it's bad news." Dean would really like Cas to contradict him, but he knows it's not good. "Give it to me straight, please."

Sam walks over to sit next to his brother. He's as nervous as Dean is about what Cas has found out. "Come on, Cas, don't string it along."

"Yeah, Cas, what did the frikkin' fairies say?" Dean's calm is rapidly evaporating; he runs his hand along his jaw, surprising himself again how soft the skin is when he half-expects to find stubble.

"Well, simply put, they said no."