Chapter 2
The Winchesters survived surgery, but just barely. Both were in critical condition. Dean was in a coma, the bullet coming inches from his heart. Sam had fared much better, even with a collapsed right lung. But he had lost a great deal of blood. He was very weak and was taking a long time to wake up.
Peter had had to drag his wife away from the hospital, away from Sam and Dean. El had wanted to stay. She had wanted to be there when the brothers woke up. But she knew she could not do that. This was out of the FBI's hands now. The Marshals had taken over. Elizabeth had given her statement. She had told the marshals that the Winchesters had saved her life, though she was careful not to use their names. She would not be able to dodge whatever questions that particular information might bring up. Neal had also been careful. He had made up a story of why he had been there. Which Peter backed up by explaining that El needed Neal's help with taste testing. Neal had a very discriminating palate.
It had been assumed then, and was believed that the Winchesters had been in partnership with the robber, a low-level crook by the name of William Alexander. But the information provided by the off-duty cop who reported the robbery in progress did not match this theory. Dean had been facing the robber. He seemed to be yelling at the man. And he seemed to be providing a shield for the shop owner, one Elizabeth Burke. The cop saw Sam come back into the main room from the back. And the women employed by Mrs. Burke, one Chelsea Rose and one Rena Christian had stated that 'Sam,' he had told them his name, he had gotten them out of the room. Sam had also told them to go get help. But they had been way too traumatized to leave and had just waited in the back room, hoping that their boss would soon join them. They said they had really, really freaked out when the shooting started.
Any nagging inconsistencies were explained away by saying that the Winchesters, in a moment of self-preservation, had decided to turn on their partner. They had just decided that it would be easier to divide the take by two. That was what the NYPD Detectives working the case believed. And that is what the police, the marshals, and most of the FBI believed. But at least 3 FBI agents and one Criminal Consultant knew the truth. The Winchesters had saved the lives of three people that day. Each had received a bullet in the chest for their efforts.
SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC SPN/WC
Jurisdiction over the Winchesters was being shared, begrudgingly, by the White Collar Division of the FBI, because the incident had occurred in a federal agent's wife's store. And the U.S. Marshals because they wanted the Winchesters. They finally had Sam and Dean, served up on a platter. The powers that be, of both agencies, were excited to have the Winchesters in custody. They were crossing their T's and dotting their I's to make sure nothing, absolutely nothing, could come back and bite them in their collective asses.
As the bigwigs fought their fight, El was fighting her own, with Peter and with the Marshals. El was steadfastly refusing to go home. She was demanding, from Peter and whoever else who would listen, that she be allowed to thank the two men who saved her life. She wanted to be able to see them, to know that they were still alive. She understood her husband's position was precarious. She got that. But she still considered Sam and Dean her friends, and she knew Peter did also. She could see the worry on his face. Luckily for Peter, his worry was mistaken as worry for his wife and her state of mind on the part of the other FBI agents and the Marshals present. But a part of that worry was, indeed, needing to know how the brothers were doing.
"I can't push things here, El." Peter replied to her endless requests to see Sam and Dean. "The Marshals are already upset we're playing in their sandbox." He whispered as the Marshals in attendance watched their interaction closely. "They are saying the fact that the incident happened in your store isn't relevant anymore. We are no longer at your store."
"They…they said what?" El questioned Peter. She was furious. "My employees are traumatized. My store is a wreck. I'm a wreck, and we're not relevant." She glared at the small group of Marshals standing across the room. "I'll tell 'em all about what's relevant." El started across the room.
Peter grabbed her arm, stopping her. "You say anything to anybody, Hon, and they'll kick us both out." He held his wife's arm a little longer, allowing her to calm down a little before he let go.
El took a couple of deep breaths and blew them out, slowly. "Okay, you're right. I'll just…maybe they will let me look through the observation window." She paused. "…if their rooms have observation windows."
Peter nodded. "It's worth a try. We'll go together. Come on, Hon."
"Neal should be here, Peter." El said after the Marshals allowed Peter and El to pass. They were told they would not be able to enter the rooms, but that they could view the patients through the windows. "He's… he's got to be worried, him and June."
Peter nodded. "I haven't called him yet. I didn't have anything to tell him. I'll call him as soon as we leave here."
El nodded. She went to the window to Dean's room. The blinds had been opened and she could see Dean easily. She had never seen the vibrant young man, she had came to care a great deal about, so still. His eyes were closed and he was surrounded by machines. He was bare-chested with a huge white bandage covering about 80% of it. He was hooked up to a ventilator and had various IV and other tubes in his body. El just stood and stared, tears streaming down her face.
She put her hand to the glass. She mouthed 'I'm sorry.' She and Peter stood there for just a moment longer before they went to visit Sam.
Sam's window was also open. He didn't have the ventilator. But his eyes were closed and a large portion of his chest was also covered with a huge bandage. He had plenty of tubes attached to him. And he was impossibly still. It was almost too much to take. Fresh tears flowed down El's cheeks as she stared at the vulnerable young man. "I'm sorry, Sam." She said as she backed away from the glass. Then then turned and buried her head in her husband's chest.
TBC