A/N: So the police won't help. Who's a poor guy to turn to in his hour of need?

Bought And Sold (Chapter 13: Hour Of Need) by frostygossamer

Sam's head was still reeling as he lurched back onto the street outside the police building. His mind, already struggling with his desperate situation as an outed female impersonator, now had to cope with his newfound knowledge of Smith's true identity. It was all too much.

"Oh Jeez," he gasped. "This can NOT be real."

He had never thought about why Smith had seemed so strangely in tune with him right from the first. He had assumed a whore was trained to seem that way to his clients, like the geisha men of matriarchal Japan. But he could now see why the guy's sunny smile had been so comforting, so familiar, why he had found him so easy to love. Jeez, he and the man he had fallen so hard for shared the same blood, and the love they had shared was forbidden.

Sam knew it was wrong but it was nobody's fault. He had no idea what he was going to do about it, but he didn't have time to dwell on it yet. What he did know, more than ever, was that he could NOT run away and leave his own BROTHER in that awful place. He would rather wind up behind bars.

Musing as he wandered, head down, through the city crowds, he noticed that he had stumbled into a pool of light emanating from a cheerful all-night cafe. The place boasted a payphone beside the cash desk. He was going to need to call someone soon. He just wasn't sure who.

He decided to go on inside, get himself a coffee and think a while about his next move. Luckily, he still had his purse with him. He was able to pay for his latte, but he didn't have much cash in it. The little piggy-bank in which he had put his earnings from tutoring, his only savings, was still in his dorm room back at college. He really could use it.

He drank his coffee slowly and considered. After weighing up the pros and cons, he went to the cafe's phone and dialled his residence's number followed by Jessica's extension.

~o~

It was after midnight when the telephone in Jessica's room started to ring. She tumbled out of bed cursing, and fumbled for the receiver.

"Hello? Who is it?" she demanded groggily, still half asleep. "Whaddya want?"

Sam hesitated for a second. Did he really trust Jessica enough?

"Jess," he began. "It's Samantha. Need you to do something for me."

Jessica put her hand on her hip huffily, as she stood there in her Hello Kitty nightdress.

"Do you know what time this is, girl?" she asked, in mock irritation. "You remember this is a school night, right?"

"Just want you to throw a couple things in a bag for me. OK? And bring it to me, please. I can't come get it myself right now."

That puzzled his friend. "Why not?" she wondered. "Samantha, is it something to do with what Ruby was hinting at earlier?"

The mention of Ruby's name alarmed Sam a little.

"Ruby?" he repeated. "What's Ruby been saying about me, Jess?"

"Oh, not much," Jessica explained. "It's just, down in the laundry room tonight, she was grinning like a Cheshire cat, saying there would be some scandal around campus tomorrow and it was all down to you. What was that about?"

Sam sighed. "You'll find out soon enough," he said. "Can you please go empty my savings pig, Jess? And get my law books. Put them in a backpack and bring them down to..." He peered out the window and told her the name on the building across the street from the cafe.

"Sure thing," Jessica agreed. "And I guess, if you're not coming back tonight, I should pack you some clothes too? Nightgown? Underwear?"

"No," replied Sam. "Don't bother, Jess. Not going to need them, just the money and the books."

What use would women's clothing be to him now?

He hung up the phone and sat down to wait, anxiously surveying the street outside.

~o~

Jessica stepped out of the taxi onto the sidewalk directly out front of the building Samantha had named. She looked around. No Samantha. She was wondering if coming down to Main Street alone at that hour had been such a great idea, when she heard a whistle and looked up.

Across the street, in the doorway of an all-night coffee shop, a tall young man was waving her over. Ordinarily she wouldn't have acknowledged a strange guy like that, but right then the well-lit coffee shop looked like a safer place to be than where she was standing. She crossed the street.

The strange guy ushered her through the coffee shop's door and indicated a booth. She sat down, stowing her luggage under the table, and peered out the window, waiting for Samantha to show up. The guy sat down at her table without asking permission.

"I'm waiting for my friend," Jessica explained tetchily. "Not looking for male company."

"Jess, it's me," hissed the stranger.

Jessica turned and looked at the guy properly for the first time. Sam watched her expression change from perplexity to astonishment.

"Yeah, Jess, it's me Samantha. Sam actually. And THIS," he indicated his body, "is what Ruby's scandal is all about."

Jessica studied him closely, her shocked mouth hanging open.

"Y-you're a secret drag king?" she asked in amazement. "Samantha, honey, you could have told me. It's not THAT deviant, dressing up as a boy. I used to be a bit of a tomboy too, back when I was five."

She naturally assumed what she was looking at was a masculine woman disguised in men's attire. Truthfully, she had always suspected her friend wasn't as feminine as a normal woman ought to be.

Sam shook his head. "No, Jess. I'm a guy. A real guy. I was only pretending to be a woman. Been faking it all along. I'm sorry."

Jessica's brow creased into a frown. "I don't understand," she said. "How can you be male? You were my friend, Samantha."

"It's Sam," Sam corrected her. "I AM your friend, Jess. Always been this way and always been your friend."

Jessica leaned back in her seat and tsked at him.

"Oh yes, sure. My friend, my best friend and confidante. Except with one hell of an eye-opener hidden between HIS legs. Sweetie, you are going to be in SO much trouble."

Sam almost laughed. He was in one TRUCKLOAD of trouble.

"Don't I know it," he agreed. "Ruby's sent a letter to the Dean denouncing me. Gotta split before I get my ass arrested. That's why I need my stuff. Did you bring it all?"

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Of course I did," she chided him. "A small roll of bills and all the text books I could fit in the bag." She kicked the bag that was at her feet towards Sam. "Much good they'll do you."

Sam picked up the bag and looked inside. Jessica leaned forward again, her face assuming a concerned expression.

"You know it's not too late to turn yourself in," she said, laying her hand on his shoulder and then quickly removing it. "You can get help. There are treatments for your problem. I know you're not a bad... person. I'm sure you wouldn't have done this if you could have helped yourself. It's a sickness."

Sam turned back to her and glared in her face.

"Really don't get it do you?" he asked in exasperation. "I'm not any kind of crazy. It was the ONLY way I could get into school. That's all."

Jessica was stunned. She had been trying to feel some sympathy for an old friend with a mental condition, but if his agenda was political that was a different matter.

"Of course you're crazy," she insisted. "Boys don't belong in school. They don't have the brains for study. Everybody knows that."

Sam could only gape. "I'm a straight-A student," he reminded her. "There's nothing wrong with my brain."

"Well, YOU're a freak, I guess," she concluded. "I mean a- a savant or whatever."

Sam dropped his head into his hands and sighed. He had had enough of being called a freak just because he wanted to learn.
"You might as well go now, Jess," he muttered. "Not gonna argue with you anymore. You're never gonna see me again anyways."

Jessica got up from the booth and headed toward the cafe door. In the doorway she hesitated and looked back.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I really am sorry, Sa- Sam."

~o~

Jessica stepped out of the cafe and looked around. On the other side of the street stood an unmarked police vehicle. She quickly crossed the roadway and tapped on the driver's window. The policewoman inside rolled the window down.

"That the suspect?" she asked, jerking her head toward the cafe.

"Oh, uh, yes. That's definitely her, uh, him," Jessica answered.

"Good." The officer got out of the car and opened the back door, pushing the young woman inside. "You just sit tight right here while I go make the arrest, ma'am," she told her.

Jessica sat in the backseat and waited for Sam to be led out of the coffee shop in handcuffs. All the while she tried to tell herself she had done the right thing, alerting the cops.

Not knowing precisely what Samantha had been guilty of, she had hoped to stop her friend doing something she would regret. But knowing the shocking truth, she could only conclude that Sam couldn't be allowed to get away with it. That would be the beginning of a slide into anarchy. Or so she had been brought up to believe.

After a few minutes the police officer returned to the vehicle, without Sam.

"Seems to have given us the slip. This time," she explained. "Made a run for it out the back door and down the alley. Now he's in the wind."

Despite herself, Jessica couldn't help feeling a little relieved.

She murmured under her breath, "Good luck, Sam. You're going to need it."

~o~

From inside the cafe, Sam watched his erstwhile best friend leave the warmth of the building and cross the street to stop by a black car.

That was exactly what he had feared would happen when he decided to contact Jessica. Even though Jess had been a good friend, he didn't expect her to be OK with breaking the law. She was hardly going to remain loyal, once she discovered what exactly he had been hiding from her.

Jessica was a woman, after all.

Grabbing the backpack, he bolted out the cafe's back exit - he had checked that out before she arrived - and headed down the back alley as fast as his long legs would carry him.

As he prowled the city streets, Sam realized it would be dawn soon and he was running out of options. He had money, which meant he could go buy a train ticket to someplace, but he hadn't the first idea where. And Dean. What about Dean? He couldn't leave town and just abandon him there. He was all the family Sam had left; he so did not deserve to be left in that manhouse; and Sam loved him.

Even if loving Dean was wrong, it was already too late for Sam to stop.

He so wished his dad was still alive. He could really use his support and help. Surely there had to be someone who he could turn to for advice? Then he thought of that male activist guy Dean had told him was taking care of his kid. It was Bobby, Bobby Singer, right? Maybe HE could help?

It was worth a dime to find out.

TBC

A/N: Will Bobby be able to suggest a solution. Doesn't he always? More soon.