Come For You

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean, Sam or any rights to Supernatural, or the Shovels & Rope song, or Common Law nor am I making any profit from this story.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

Chapter Four: Lengths You'll Go

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"When the devil is all around and got you crawling on the ground
On your hands and your knees with an apple in your mouth
You will know how far you'll go to make your peace with God"

Claire's pseudo father Randy isn't the first to fall under Dean's knife but he's the most satisfying. That dark ache in Dean relishes the light fading in the man's terrified gaze, trapped in a corner and unable to run, having not had a hand in striking the match that was Dean. It's a sick courtesy when Dean backs up a step, allows the man the hope of living, of slipping past him to the door, before he slashes the knife blade across Randy's chest then raises it to slit his throat. And Dean tells himself Randy deserved it, they deserved it, that he had warned them and they hadn't heeded it, that what he did…it was his right, that he had the power, the insight, the burning righteousness to exact judgment. That the Mark made everything clear, so friggin' clear, made his choices seem like foregone conclusions. Like hunting in Purgatory, killing monsters indiscriminately, sure in the knowledge he was imbued with the right to do good, to exterminate evil with prejudice, to take lives so he could live.

As he stands there, blood dripping from his knife, the bloody bodies strewn at his feet, he feels like a conqueror, as strong as he's ever been. And when he senses a presences at his back, he reacts without thought, knows that casualties are acceptable in this arena, doesn't register that the presence is Sam until his knife's done its work, has sunk into Sam's stomach to the hilt. And Sam's startled, anguished, pained expression rips away the lie of the Mark, drowns Dean in shame and regret and grief. Even as Sam's legs give out on him, Dean's catching him, going to the ground with his brother, trying to hold in his brother's blood that's surging from around the knife's merciless sharp blade.

When Sam's eyes hold his, the forgiving love in his brother's eyes condemn Dean to someplace worse than even hell could imagine. And yet the Mark's insidious voice murmurs in the background that Sam got what he deserved, that Sam betrayed him time and time again and this day was always on the horizon, that he did Sam a favor…like Cain thought he did Abel a favor. But when Sam dies in his arms, the Mark's no match for the sorrow and self-hatred that floods Dean's soul, that gushes out of Dean as a tormented shout.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Dean's shout startled Cas out of the hospital chair, had him diving to Dean's side. Hands seizing onto his friend's shoulders, Cas was surprised when Dean didn't lurch from sleep but instead lay limp under his touch, only his voice giving response of another choked shout, this time of his brother's name "'Sam!"

Wishing to end his friend's tormented nightmare, Cas commanded in that angel tone he usually didn't bother using on Dean because his friend rarely shrunk under its tenor, "Dean! Dean, wake up!" Though Cas anticipated Dean's eyes flying open, his friend trying to jackknife off the mattress took him by surprise. But he suppressed the man's attempt easily, held Dean fast in his grip and pinned to the bed. "Dean, it's Cas."

It took a few blinks before Dean's eyes gave way from confusion to recognition, before the hunter hoarsely asked, "Cas?"

"Yes," Cas confirmed, his eyes holding Dean's lending Dean whatever peace his friend would take from his presence, felt his own fear lessen when Dean exhaled in relief at the realization that it was him at his side. But that peace didn't last, was replaced with dread when Dean's eyes darted past Cas and didn't see his brother.

With no Sam in sight, Dean's nightmare/memories came back to him full force, had him gasping out, "Where's Sam? Did I hurt Sam?!" He tried again to sit up, wanted to run the hallways searching for his brother but Cas still held him fast to the bed.

Realizing that Dean's fear was the work of the Mark, Cas steadfastly assured, "No, Dean, you didn't hurt Sam. Whatever you dreamed, it wasn't real."

At Cas' words, the fight went out of Dean and he sank back heavily onto the bed, closed his eyes and did a few hard swallows. "It was real….just not the ending," he corrected Cas, was fuzzy on why he was in the hospital right then but knew him killing Randy and the other guys in that house was all too real.

Loosening his probably bruising grip on Dean's arms, Cas straighten and his face creased with worry and sympathy. "Sam said you've been having daily nightmares," he quietly said, hoping his friend took the words in the vein of worry not criticism that they were meant in.

Dean's eyes snapped open with Cas' statement, he didn't know Sam knew that, had foolishly thought he was keeping that weakness from his brother. Shame washed over him. Clearing his throat, he aimed to put the pieces of his memories into a full picture, "Speaking of Sam…" But he didn't say more, hoped Cas filled in the blanks because he didn't trust his recollection of events, maybe didn't want to, not if Sam had really been arrested, hauled out of the warehouse in cuffs.

Cas let out a beleaguered sigh. "Jail." At Dean's look of alarm, he soothed, "But I've asked for help to get him released."

Brow furrowed as the memories became concrete in his mind, Dean scowled at the news that Sam really had been dragged from the warehouse in cuffs, was sitting in jail for Michele's murder spree at the warehouse as well as Michele's headless corpse. And it was up to Cas to spring Sam? "What help? An angel with a perchance at jail breaks?" he skeptically challenged.

At Dean's guess, Cas's head tilted in confusion. "I know of no such angel."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Dean gritted out, "Cas, who'd you call to help Sam?"

"Sheriff Mills from Sioux Falls. You and Sam speak highly of her and you trusted her to take care of Claire so I knew I could trust her."

"Jody?! You dragged Jody into this mess, just awesome," Dean grumbled, not liking to think what career risks the sheriff was taking this time. But then another thought had him scrutinizing Cas. "Yeah and how is it you're here?"

"Sam used his one phone call from jail to call me and requested that I come heal you." Then the angel did an uncharacteristic nervous shift of his feet in shame before he confessed, "I'm sorry, Dean. I was unable to restore you to full health. The Mark countered my efforts."

Just the mention of the Mark had Dean unconsciously rubbing his fingers over the scar on his forearm. "Keeping me at half charge, hoping I'll lower my guard, succumb to temptation and just give in…" He gave a dark chuckle. "This thing invented mind games."

Cas remained silent and drenched in helplessness. His interaction with the Mark that day proved that he was no match for its power. Plus, having felt its evil firsthand, he now feared even more for Dean. Dean was the strongest willed man he had ever known but the evil that resided in the Mark, it wouldn't stop until Dean did its bidding. Would stamp down Dean's will, would crush his goodness, would sooner or later make Dean a slave to its malevolent desires.

Cas was jerked out of his dark thoughts by Dean's commanding, "Cas, find my clothing, I need to get out of here." And again, Cas used his superior strength to pin Dean to the bed, to stop his attempt to sit up. "Dean, didn't you hear what I said? I didn't heal you, was only able to ensure your wounds were no longer life threatening."

Cas' clarification did nothing to derail Dean's plan. "Not life threatening, I can work with that. Now grab my clothing…"

But Cas shot down Dean's scheme with a growled shout of "No!" that got Dean's wide eyes meeting his. Urging himself to calm down, Cas continued in a voice more controlled but no less resolute, "Sam entrusted me to take care of you and I've failed in that in the past," instantly thought of Alastair breaking from the devil's trap and nearly killing Dean, "but I'm not going to fail in it today. You're not leaving this bed, Dean. You're letting the medical staff do what they can to finish what I couldn't: to fully heal you."

Realizing how tightly wound Cas was, Dean reached out patted Cas on the chest, "Taking me off the 'more-likely-to-die-than-live' list, you did good Cas. Thanks."

Cas basked in Dean's praise and appreciation and gave an accepting nod of his head before he straighten again, stood by his friend's bedside. But wasn't foolish enough to think the battle had been won, not when it came to Dean looking out for Sam. So he offered up an appeasement, "I won't let you leave the hospital but I will call Jody, she should have arrived in town by now and spoken with the police about the charges Sam is facing."

"Yes, do it," Dean immediately insisted, even though he already knew the evidence that the cops had against Sam, that they would consider Sam caught red handed at the scene. 'He risked prison for you, to stay with you.' And his brother's loyalty, that just heaped more condemnation on Dean's head because he knew how unworthy he was of it, especially lately when he was too weak to stifle the murmurings of the Mark. Had so much innocent blood on his hands, almost had Sam's blood on his hands. Began to worry that, even if, by some miracle, the Mark one day was off his skin, its stain might never be off his soul.

"There must be some other way, I just don't know
Gotta get myself back up on that high road
But nobody knows that like you do"

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

He was risking Jody's career, maybe even her life, and yet Sam didn't shy away from sending her to do his bidding. Any more than he had ringing Bobby up in heaven to get the older hunter to spring Metatron, or sending Charlie out into the world to try and track down the Book of the Damned. And Lester…he was just a pawn to him, a means to find a way to Crowley and his brother. And the fact that Lester ended up selling his soul and getting killed by Dean, that wasn't keeping Sam up at night like it should. 'Because I got Dean back, because I got what I wanted and Lester…he didn't have a quarter of the goodness my brother possesses. So his life for Dean's…still a trade I would make.'

The vision of Suzie that the Werther box generated suddenly came to his mind, her words slicing into his conscience. "Anything's worth it as long as you two make it out alive. You think Dean's the wild card, the loose cannon but you're making deals with witches and opening Pandora's box down there. You're the reckless one. You'd do anything to keep clinging to that doomed brother of you. How many more will die Sammy?'

Sam slammed his fist onto the interrogation table again, internally shouted, 'Enough!' to shut out the guilt that was trying to lay claim to him. He didn't have time or the luxury for guilt, not if he wanted to save Dean. And he would save him, there was no other outcome he could accept. So to do that it meant him getting out of jail, reaching his brother's side, meant sending Jody off to break the law and set Dom up, meant doing whatever he had to do to get back to Dean, to keep his plans to save Dean moving forward.

Blind, callous, unswerving determination to do whatever had to be done to save each other, it ran in their family. Because maybe his father's choices had been bad, maybe they were self-centered, they certainly scarred he and Dean irrevocably, and just maybe Sam finally understood what drove his father to hunt down Mary's killer, to turn his sons' into hunters, to seemingly heartlessly put his sons in harm's way. Did all that to ensure that, if Mary's killer came for his sons, he and Dean would be prepared, they would not die like Mary had, that, if John could, he would wipe that threat out before it ever reached his sons. As if John had known in his gut that Mary's death was just the first, that whatever killed her would set its sights on his sons. And he had been resolute on making sure his sons didn't fall victim to that evil, no matter if they ended up hating him in the process.

'Like I thought I hated Dean for allowing Gadreel to possess me in order to save me. Like Dean might hate me for lying to him, not telling him about not burning the Book of the Damned, working with Rowena to find a cure for the curse of the Mark.' His father had borne that hatred from his sons, Dean had borne that hatred from him and Sam knew he could bear that hatred from Dean, would do it if his efforts freed Dean of the Mark, ensured his brother would never be a demon again. After all, what was a little hate between family if it saved the ones you loved?

"I'm going down a long road, maybe it's the wrong road
But either way I gotta find my way back home again
It's too late to turn back now, gotta get the lead on out
Gotta find some way to make it right on"

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Jody wasn't sure when her status changed from a mother who had lost her son to a mother of four. Though she would deny, straight out, that she had adopted the Winchester boys, that didn't make it untrue. 'Yeah, why else did I agree to steal a car, drive it to this pit of a motel and help frame a fellow hunter.' But it was actually an easy choice, knowing said hunter had set Dean up to be killed by his vampire girlfriend, not to mention the pleading look Sam had leveled at her across the interrogation table. Dang but she needed to get tougher when it came to saying no to those boys.

'And be a little more concerned about my career instead of acting on some twisted motherly protective instinct' because the tongue lashing she had given the State Troopers on Sam's case? So wasn't going to get her good press.

SNSNSNSNSN

The two State Troopers had ambushed her the second she walked out of Sam's interrogation room. "What were you doing in there with our suspect?!" the white trooper angrily snapped.

Instead of answering, Jody came to stand toe to toe with her fellow law enforcement brethren. "What kind of pricks are you two?! You didn't tell him his brother was alive?! Is in the ICU! I've worked with some heartless egomaniacs before but you guys are taking the cake." Had seen the drastic change in Sam's sullen features when she had told him Dean was alive, although in the ICU, like Sam was fighting to not breakdown in a show of utter relief.

"And who are you again?" the black trooper asked, with more civilly than his partner probably possessed on a good day.

"Sherriff Jody Mills of Sioux Falls. Sam used his one phone call to contact me, needed someone to stand up for him since you Troopers don't bother with something as inconsequential as gathering actual proof before making an arrest," she spat, hands on her belt so she didn't do what she wanted to do and land a punch or two.

"He's not under arrest, he's being held for questioning," Wes stiffly corrected, didn't want to show their hand yet, to mention they were comparing Sam's fingerprints with the ones found in the murder in Jefferson county.

"His brother's gravely injured and you handcuffed him and dragged him off, in front Dean, for questioning?!" Jody recapped, had a very good clue of how badly the brothers probably took that separation and it twisted her heart. "Why don't we get real here. You have something more on him than some private detective showing his picture around the last murder site? Because if showing someone's picture around is probable cause for arrests, a bunch of proud grandparents would be responsible for putting their grandkids in prison."

"What's your relationship with our suspect? Because unless you're Sioux Falls sheriff and an attorney, you're exceeding your jurisdiction," Wes heatedly pointed out, though he felt a bit like a hypocrite when Travis shot him a look because wasn't he a trooper and an attorney himself. Was conceited of him to think this sheriff couldn't have also gone to law school like he had.

"So you do know a little about the law, good start to a career in law enforcement," Jody cuttingly shot back.

Travis put a hand out to block Wes advancing on the Sheriff even as he declared, "Out of a professional curtsey, we won't press charges against you."

"Won't press charges, huh, so false charges is something you two like to stack up? Good to know," Jody goaded, wasn't about to let these two heartless idiots feel good about their version of upholding the law.

Pointing a finger at Jody, Wes began, "Listen here…"

But Jody cut him off. "No, you listen. I just convinced Sam to talk to you, tell you his side of things, so give him some time to cool down before you go in there and then don't screw things up by antagonizing him." Then before the troopers could form a comeback, she was storming for the door, had a mission to complete.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"Winchesters sure know how to pick 'em," Jody quietly grumbled as she parked the car she had stolen in the ramshackle motel's potholed parking lot at room door number 11. She unhooked the wires that had kept the hotwired car running and sat there a moment rehashing Sam's plan.

1. Steal a car a mile from the warehouse that no one would know when it went missing - Check.

2. Go to the fleabag motel he and Dean had stayed at with Dom, the scumbag hunter who set Dean up to be killed by his vampire girlfriend- Check

3. Get Michele's clothing from room number 12 and put it in the stolen car's trunk along with whatever weapons in the room that weren't Sam or Dean's. Then gather up anything that would give proof that Michele & Dom were in the parts of Idaho where the murders were.

Though she had gotten better at B&E since learning about monsters, it still took her a little time to get the official cop lock-pick to click the tumblers and for her to get inside. She remembered to be quiet, didn't want Dom aware that someone was in the room next to the one he was tied up in. Opening up a bag with woman's clothing and undergarments, Jody hoped Sam was right, that Michele hadn't thrown out the clothing she wore from her other buffets.

"Why wouldn't she get rid of the evidence?" she had challenged Sam, because she might still be a little wet behind the ears when it came to vampire hunting but human killers, that she knew something about.

But Sam had shaken his head confidently, "If Dean and I threw away all the clothing we got bloody, we'd need to hit the thrift shop every day. No, she'll have the clothing yet and the labs will pick up that there was blood on them, even Clorex can't get out all traces. When they compare the blood traces in Michele's clothes with her victims, they should get hits. "

Picking up Michele's bag, Jody settled it by the front door, hoped Sam's theory was right and Michele wasn't a prima doma when it came to blood stained outfits.

Then Jody was set on figuring out which clothing bags were Dean or Sam's, which turned out to be an easy task: no plaid shirts in the bag's depths clearly meant she had Dom's bag. And the weapon's bags were just as easily determined since she had been on enough hunts with the Winchester boys to recognize their cache of weapons, not to mention their weapons were cleaned like factory issue and Dom and Michele's might have seen a cleaning this year.

Finding some proof to tie Dom and Michele to the other murder sites wasn't so easy. She scrunched up her face in disgust as she ruffled through Dom's dirty jeans' pockets, but it proved lucrative as she recovered a receipt for gas at a town just a few miles from the second murder in Idaho. Then in a stroke of genius, she snagged the pizza box from the trash, the one embossed with a pizzeria from Jefferson County the sight of the latest murder. Hauling her goodies to the stolen car, she casually threw the pizza box in the backseat and dumped the bags of clothing and weapons in the trunk. 'Enough to fix your wagon, Dom' she congratulated herself before she straightened her uniform and hoped Dom wasn't observant enough to notice the patch on her arm said Sioux Falls instead of Goodling. Then she strode forward and knocked on door number twelve, initiating Sam's step #4.

4. Impersonating the Goodling Sheriff, go in to room 11 and liberate Dom, tell him that there were two men found dead at the warehouse and they were tracing their steps back there. (When Jody had questioned Sam on why he wanted Dom to believe Michele had survived and they hadn't, she felt like a fool when Sam had patiently explained, "I don't want to take the chance that Dom decides to go after us for revenge for Michele's death. I'm safe here but Dean's not able to take care of himself. I'm not making him a target." And she couldn't have agreed with that more.)

So when no one called out in response to her knock on room door # 11, she announced herself, "Sheriff Staton of Goodling Police Department, open the door!" When that was met with silence she forewarned, "I'm coming in." And then she kicked in the door, swept her gun across the room's expansion, put on a surprised look at finding some beefy, shaved head guy tied and gagged in the room's only chair. Quickly crossing the room, she pulled the gag from Dom's mouth, questioned, "The person who tied you up, they around yet?"

With a voice dry from having had a towel stuck in it for hours, Dom croaked out, "No, they left. How'd you know I was in here?"

Moving around to untie Dom's hands, Jody spun her tale just like Sam told her to. "I didn't. We found two men murdered out in a warehouse on the other side of town and they had a key for this room." Stood up when she had freed Dom and came around to face the man as he came to his feet. "Do you know the men's names? We're trying to ID them but …their bodies are pretty mutilated."

"So they're dead?" Dom asked, doing a poor job of hiding his pleasure at that news, which Jody pretended to not notice. "I didn't know them, just met them yesterday. I didn't know what kinda crap they were into but the taller one got freaky on me and tied me up. I'm just glad he left me alive."

"Well, we'll need you to give your statement at the station," Jody notified him, saw the way Dom stiffened at that prospect but then her cellphone trilled. "Excuse me, I have to take this," she said, leaving the room and walking down the motel sidewalk a ways, waited until she was far enough away to be certain that her conversation wouldn't drift back to Dom before she answered, "Sheriff Mills."

"Sheriff, it's Cas…I called you to come to Goodling to assist Sam," Cas formally greeted, as if she would have forgotten his connection to her current law breaking scheme.

"I'm in town. Have you seen Dean? Is he Ok?" she cross-examined, hadn't wanted to show her apprehension for Dean's life in front of Sam but that didn't mean that anxiety wasn't coursing through her since Cas had called her.

Giving Dean an assessing look, Cas diagnosed, "I'm with him now and he's no longer in jeopardy of dying."

"Wow, aren't you clinically unreassuring. Can you do that in like normal people speech, like he's sitting up doing handstands or lying in a coma?"

The choices Jody offered only confused Cas. "I've never seen Dean do handstands but I would not advise him to attempt that at the moment and he's conscious, is in fact demanded the phone from me."

"Why didn't you say that to start with! Put him on," Jody insisted, waited a beat while holding her breath before Dean's so welcome baritone reached her ears.

Dean opened with an apology. "Jody, sorry you got dragged into this."

Jody couldn't hold back a smile at the proof that Dean was alive and well enough to sound almost like himself, a little tired and pained but still himself. "Hey, kiddo. How you doing? Sam's worried sick."

"I'm good," Dean reassured, held up a hand to forestall the protest Cas was opening his mouth to make against the truthfulness of his declaration.

"So rebar through your guts is code for being "good" these days?" Jody challenged in that motherly worried yet slightly scolding tone that Dean crumbled under like balsawood.

Dean sheepishly relented a little on his bravado statement. "Ah…is after said rebar is yanked out and a medical team and an angel get done patching you up."

"So you're really alright?" Jody quietly asked, her worry shining through without restraint this go around.

Worry that Dean wanted to assuage. "I'm hurting, will be sore, am on some good painkillers and have an angel hovering over me…but yeah, I'm going to be alright. What about Sam? What's his plan for getting out of there?"

Looking over her shoulder, Jody watched as Dom hotwired the stolen car and stomped on the gas, sent the car spitting gravel as he backed it up and sent it careening out of the parking lot. Effectively and unknowingly Dom had completed Sam's step #5: Give Dom the opening to slip out the door, hotwire the stolen car with all the incriminating evidence in it and hit the road'.

To Dean, Jody announced, "Sam's going to say Michele went serial killer and Dom called you and Sam in to stop her but then Dom changed his mind, decided to blame the murders on Sam. But when Michele took you hostage, Dom and Sam came to rescue you and Dom took her head and then split. I've just put a nice assortment of evidence in a stolen car that Dom just kindly liberated from me that should get a conviction in any court of law."

"That's my boy, always ten steps ahead of everyone else," Dean praised his little brother for his rock-solid plan. Then Dean undertoned, "Ah crap, here comes my doctor, gotta go. Hey Jody…thanks."

"I'd say anytime but that might induce you to make a habit of nearly dying and Sam a habit of nearly getting strapped to an electric chair, so how about, glad to do it this time but let's not make this a thing," Jody half teased, half implored earning her a light chuckle from Dean.

"Sounds like something we can agree to. Bye." As Dean ended the connection, Jody was still smiling, knew that caring about Sam and Dean came with a heavy worry price tag but it was all worth it when she knew they were going to be Ok, that they still had each other to watch the other's back and that was a winning force.

Turning to her police radio clipped to her shoulder, Jody called in the license plate number on Dom's getaway vehicle, gave his twenty and signed off before the operator could ask for her ID code. Then she went back into the room and started to wipe away any trace that Sam and Dean Winchester had been in either of the rooms. Sam hadn't asked her to do that but in for a penny, in for a pound. If she was going to risk her career, she might as well do it right and make sure the boys didn't have any loose ends hanging over their heads with the State Troopers or the town's LEOs, didn't have to fear staying put long enough for Dean to be roadworthy. And if it felt similar to cleaning up her little boy's room, stuffing tube socks and stinky wrinkled shirts into Sam and Dean's bags, she found it wasn't a painful comparison, was actually a healing one. Sometimes things did come full circle.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Sam didn't show any reaction when Wes and Travis entered the room, but had to restrain himself when Wes caustically taunted, "So you have a sheriff in your back pocket."

"I have a sheriff who's my friend," Sam countered, still leaning back in the chair relaxed like he was the one doing the interrogating.

"Come on, Wes, let's not antagonize him," Travis advised under his breath to his partner, giving Sam's sheriff friend credit for knowing how Sam would react if they continued to mishandle the situation. Wes hesitated a moment in indecision before he gave Travis a nod and then they both took a seat.

Travis took up the interview reins. "Your friend convinced us to hear you out before we drop you in a cell without windows. So I say talk."

Inhaling, Sam put his upset and reluctance to talk on display before he broke his vow of silence, seemingly chose to break a relationship to save his own butt from going to jail. "Dean and I…we came to town to help a friend."

"Hopefully not the woman you beheaded," Wes snarked and at Travis' reprimanding look, he exhaled out a "Continue."

Sam made a show of shifting nervously in his chair. "A buddy we've had for years called us up, said…he was worried his girlfriend was doing some dark things."

"Dark things…drugs, stealing….prostitution?" Wes prompted.

Sam closed his mouth in a sign of indecision before he broke his muteness, "Murder." That got both State Troopers sitting up straighter in their chairs. "His girlfriend…she had been through some stuff.." At the Troopers' expectant look, he expounded, "Her sister was murdered when she was sixteen. And that…it got her believing some strange crap, doing drugs before she started going off hunting for her sister's murderer. And our buddy, he went along with her because it was harmless you know…she was harmless. Until a month ago when Dom called for our help, needed us to come meet up with him and Michele."

"So you came to Idaho…were in fact in the state when the other murders happened?" Wes cross- examined, remembered Sam's early claim of not being in Idaho during the other murders.

"Murders didn't start in Idaho…they started in Oklahoma. By the time we got there Dom and Michele had left but we saw…what Michele left behind." He gave a sick grimace. "What she did to the bodies…" he shook his head in horror.

"Michele, your buddy Don's girlfriend?" Travis asked for verification, beginning to write down the info that Sam was imparting.

"Yeah. Dean and I …we called Dom, told him to have Michele turn herself in. And if she wouldn't…he should go to the cops himself, get her stopped."

"But he didn't do that," Wes surmised and Sam shook his head.

"No and he warned me that if Dean and I got any ideas to turn her in…he'd get the cops after us. Tell the cops we did it."

"Convincing, all of this. Blaming it on a missing buddy for 'framing' you," Wes snorted.

"Well, maybe you have some other way to explain my fingerprints at the murder in Jefferson County Idaho when I only got into the state two days ago," Sam heatedly threw back, internally enjoyed the Troopers' shock at his knowledge of the frame up Dom had managed at the other crime scene. "Dom said he would do that, leave my or Dean's print there if we didn't back off."

"And you didn't back off?" Travis pressed.

Sam looked at Travis with disbelief, "Would you if you knew your friend was being dragged down into some bad crap?! Dom needed to get his head on straight, to get away from Michele."

"And how did you plan on doing that? Making him turn on his girl?" Wes asked with sharp lack of belief.

"Didn't really know until we tracked him down to the motel in this town, started telling him that Michele needed help, that if he loved her, he would see she got it."

"An intervention," Travis labeled.

"Yeah," Sam dejectedly agreed, his tone giving them a hint of how well that went.

"So how'd that intervention end up with your brother impaled? And I'm assuming Michele's the burnt body without a head?" Wes pressed, wasn't ready yet to swallow Sam's tale.

Sam rubbed his hands on the table, like he hated to think on those things. "Dean and I, we thought it better if Dom didn't track down Michele, so Dean went, found her in that warehouse. But she had already killed some more people there…kids and she freaked out when Dean arrived. They fought and Dean got hurt. But she….I guess there was enough goodness in her to not kill Dean. Instead, she called Dom, sent him a picture of Dean, hurt in the warehouse, told Dom to come and help Dean, that she was leaving. "

Sam exhaled, shook his head as he recalled, "But Dom, he told her not to leave, that he needed her, that he'd meet her there and they'd leave together."

"Bet that didn't set too well with you," Travis guessed.

"No! She hurt my brother, was a raging serial killer. I told Dom I would go alone and do whatever I had to do to save my brother and he wasn't going to stop me. But Dom…he said I couldn't go alone, that Michele…she would kill me if he didn't go there, talk her down. So we went together, parked away from the warehouse so she didn't know I was there. But then…Dom he stated his car on fire, called Michele, sent her a picture of the burning car, said the cops would see the smoke and be coming soon, that if she wanted to not be caught to come out to him and they would just leave together. But when…" Sam choked up here for emphasis, "but when Michele came out I went to tackle her but Dom…he killed her right in front of me, just ….took her head right off. And I…" Sam swallowed hard, pretended he was fighting back being sick. "It was awful."

"So Dom… he killed Michele. Where's he at now?" Wes demanded.

"He just..started rambling that it wasn't Michele, that he didn't kill her, that it wasn't her. When I went to calm him down, he took off running and I ran for the warehouse to find Dean. I don't….I don't know where he'd go. He still had things at the motel in town but I don't think he'd go back there." Let shame and horror reflect in his gaze, "I didn't want to turn on him, not after he killed Michele to save me, to save Dean but…if it's my freedom or his…I need to get out of here and see my brother. I need to make sure my brother's ok more than I want to protect Dom from actions he alone did."

"We'll check out your story…" Travis conceded and then he stood up, hesitated a moment before he met Sam's gaze. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you about your brother's condition earlier. I wanted to sweat answers out of you but using your brother's grave health condition was a crappy way of doing that."

"Yeah, it was," Sam shot back, wasn't ready to forgive and forget that merciless tactic.

"Yeah, ok," Travis mumbled before he followed his partner out of the interrogation room, decided it best to focus on the leads he had to follow up on and an overload of information to make sense of than his craptastic methods of interrogation.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"One of the nurses thought she heard two voices carrying on a conversation in here," Doctor Conner greeted all smiles at the sight of his awake patient.

Handing Cas' phone back to him, Dean focused on his plan on bamboozling the doctor into convincing Cas he was ok to spring this zoo. "Don't sell Cas short, doc, he does a great ventriloquist act. So you here to give me a clean bill of health?"

"Ah, clean bill of health already might be a bit of stretch after what you've been through but let's see the miracle your brother's presence bestowed on you," Conner said. Focusing on Dean's chart, he didn't catch the surprised expression Dean shot Cas at being labeled brothers or the uncomfortable look on Cas' face at that fabrication or the doctor's on-the-money miracle innuendo. Then Conner was slipping between the two men, checking the readouts on the numerous machines around Dean…and then stopping and rechecking them.

Cas dropped his eyes to his shoes, felt awkward being there when his miracle was about to be discovered. The doctor's low key 'Huh" had Cas' head guiltily snapping up.

"Huh…is that…is that a sound of good news or bad?" Cas stammered, half trying to hide his own actions in healing Dean and half in worry about the damage he couldn't heal.

Distracted by his findings, Patrick checked the chart and compared the numbers again before finally looking up at his patient's brother's worried expression. "Ah, it's a sound of good news," before he turned his attention to Dean, "Your vitals are much improved, your coloring is better…I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth but I'm a little stunned at your turnaround."

Dean gave a closed mouth smile before bragging, "I'm a quick healer, always have been."

"Ookkaayy," the doctor drawled, not buying that for a second but then he turned to Cas, "Can you leave us for a little while? I want to examine your brother's wound and maybe run him down for some tests."

"It's best if I stay with Dean," Cas opposed, using his angel-knows-best tone.

Dean wanted to groan, anyone who thought having an angel as a bodyguard wasn't going to do social damage to your reputation had apparently never had Cas fulfilling that post. "Cas, seriously, I'm ok. Go get some coffee…."

"But I shouldn't leave you..…." Cas protested, fear rising in him at just the thought of leaving Dean without his protection, as vulnerable and as weak and in pain as he currently was.

Dean felt his face flush with embarrassment, said to the doc, "Big brothers, they embarrass you any chance they get," before he pierced Cas with a stern commanding look even though his tone was light, "Cas, buddy, I'm good with the doc. I'll swear to Sam that you never left my side."

"But that would be a lie…." And Cas had told enough lies lately, about how he got his grace back, about Metatron still being locked in Heaven's prison, about his personal search for a cure for the Mark.

"Cas, come on!" Dean lowly hissed, "Give me a break here." At Dean's obvious frustration with him, Cas' face fell a little and he disheartenedly agreed, "I'll be in the cafeteria getting coffee," before he started for the door, didn't heed Dean's "Cas…don't…I didn't mean…" as he left his friend as he asked him to.

'Great, you have such a wonderful way of thanking people for saving your life, for putting up with all your bullcrap and that's without the added bonus of the Mark,' Dean railed at himself at Cas' kicked-puppy departure. He startled as the doctor pulled his gown down to see his side, had to fist his hands to not strike out as the doctor's albeit gently prodding in the wound sent spikes of pain through him. Had to grit his teeth to bite back the words that he knew weren't his…well, not all his. Were the Mark's snarling comeback to the pain, to Cas' loyalty and worry.

'The angel freed you from hell and now you're supposed to be indebted to him for the rest of your life?! No matter how many times he's hurt you, betrayed you? You should be relieved he walked away, wasn't there patronizing you, treating you like you needed him, were too weak to survive on your own.'

"No!" Dean breathed out, didn't know he said it aloud until the doctor's eyes came up to meet his with a look of apology as he pulled his touch from Dean's wound.

"Sorry for the rough handling, had to gauge the healing process. The wound is clear and the stitches are good but there's still a risk of infection and the laceration on your colon is a concern. Since your vitals have spiked on the side of good, I'm hoping to get similar good news with the MRI results," Dr. Conner explained.

"Ah, sure…" Dean numbly agreed to whatever rambling the doctor had just done, wished his health was the only thing he had to worry about, that Sam wasn't in jail right then, that he didn't just harshly brush off Cas' friendship and that the Mark would shut the heck up for a friggin' minute or five. On the scheme of things, him living to see another day, it wasn't the great news the doc thought it was, not if it meant another day he might succumb to the Mark, might hurt Sam or Cas or Jody or someone else he loved, not when it meant another day struggling to not see black eyes in his reflection. Was another chance for him to turn Sam's faith in him to ash. And out of all his failures, that was the one that he didn't want to repeat, didn't see how he could live with himself if he did. 'You'll live because Sam wants you to, because he'll forgive you anything …but you giving up. You heard him in the warehouse, he's ok if you are so suck it up and decide to be ok.'

"So I'm gonna be a good man, gonna do the best I can
Though I'm a shell of the man that I once was
And if I find forgiveness in the eyes of God
It will be hard won, I assure you"

"I'll get a nurse to take you down for the MRI test in a few minutes," the doctor was saying and Dean came back to the conversation in time to nod as the doctor left the room. He didn't track the minutes as they passed before a nurse was in his room, all smiles like there was something worth smiling about. He managed to grunt at her cheerfulness but before she could unlock his bed to steer him down to the second floor, a visitor slipped into the room.

"Oh crap," Dean hissed under his breath as he shifted himself upright against the pillows, tried to make a plan in his head how to handle the newest hiccup in his plan to not die. "Dom, thought you'd bring flowers, candy at least."

"I barely even noticed how the fibers did tear away
From the fabric of my being

Nobody knows it like you do babe, the lengths we will go

To make our peace with God"**

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

**The song in this chapter is Shovels & Rope's "The Devil is All Around."

Thanks for your generously kind words on last chapter and for being patient with me as I struggled to get this update out. I had a, excuse the pun, "devil" of a time figuring out how to start to get Sam freed of the charges. Serves me right for putting our boys in untenable positions without already planning their escape, huh?

I figure there's another chapter or two to this story. Hope you'll continue to tune in.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.