—-

Chapter 3

—-

Deacon arrived at the old rundown abandoned farmhouse Dean had found to lay low in just as Bobby was climbing out of his car. The men had met once or twice besides their earlier phone call, but didn't know each other very well and spent a minute or two sizing one another up. Deacon could tell Bobby was not thrilled with him, as he had been the one to drag the boys into this mess to begin with. He actually wondered if Bobby was going to lay into him, but after a moment of intense staring Bobby just waved him forward to enter the house. Dean turned swiftly from where he had obviously been wearing a path in the floor pacing as they entered.

"Dean, man, I am so sorry - " Deacon immediately began.

"Forget it, it happened. We just need to focus on getting Sam out." He stuck his hand out, surprising Deacon who hesitated for a moment before shaking it. Turning to Bobby, Dean briefly let him see the despair that had been flooding him since the call with Henriksen.

"Dean." Bobby said roughly, hating what both "his" boys were going through. All three men turned towards the door as they heard another car pull up. A sharp knock on the door, and then Mara had joined them, a breath of fresh air in a crisp pantsuit.

"Mara, thank you." Dean said, offering his hand.

"Don't thank me yet." she responded, eyeing Deacon, surprised to see a prison guard in the room. "You owe me an explanation, a REAL one, for what's going on. I put my neck out for you…"

"You did, and we're grateful." Dean took a breath, not wanting to waste the time giving her 'the talk' but knowing they needed her fully on board in order to get Sam back. He introduced her to Bobby and Deacon, then waved her to a seat. "You're not going to believe me, but as these two men can attest, what I'm about to tell you is the truth." Glancing briefly over at Bobby, Dean began calmly sharing the real reason he and Sam were in Folsom Prison, what they did for a living, and why they were wanted by the police. To her credit, Mara said nothing throughout his explanation. When he had finished she just stared back at him for a few minutes, then looked over at the others. Addressing Deacon first, she asked, "You obviously believe this, since you asked them to come hunt this…ghost?"

"I do. I've seen it. It actually nearly killed me before Dean was able to salt and burn her bones." Deacon replied, mentally urging her to believe.

"And you," she said, directing her piercing gaze at Bobby, "You're, what? A relative? Another hunter?"

"Guilty on both counts, I suppose," he replied gruffly.

Dean couldn't wait any longer. "Are you willing to believe me? Are you in? Sam is in real trouble, more than just the legal kind, and if you aren't able or willing to believe us, will you at least agree not give us up?" He looked at her anxiously, realizing he might have just made things worse for both of them. Mara looked back at him, holding eye contact, and after what felt like forever she nodded to herself, clearly having come to a conclusion.

"I can't explain WHY I believe you, Dean Winchester, but heaven help me, I do. I will help." she paused, replaying Dean's last sentence in her head. "What do you mean Sam's in more trouble than just the legal kind? Is there another spirit - ?"

Dean shook his head, and proceeded to tell everyone about his morning phone call with Henriksen. He avoided looking at Bobby, who was growing more and more red in the face as he fought to keep from exploding at Dean over the stupidity of such a move.

"I think Henriksen's off the rails, honestly." Dean concluded, still not looking at Bobby, "He is clearly willing to go outside the law to capture me, and if he's compromising his own code then we're in real trouble."

"I can't get near Sam." Deacon said, discouraged. "They have him in the newly reopened old cell block, but no one in the prison is allowed in there except for Henriksen and his partner."

"What about his partner?" mused Mara. "Is he willing to go along with the lines Henriksen is crossing?"

"It would be a question worth asking." Bobby agreed, watching Dean who was again pacing, the lack of immediate action clearly grating on him. He stopped abruptly in front of Deacon.

"Any chance you could smuggle me back in - " Before he could finish the thought he was met with three upraised voices of dissent. Annoyed, Dean waved his hand as if to swat away a fly. "Someone has to get in and…" He trailed off as an idea occurred to him. It was crazy, but that was nothing new. "What if we enlisted another inside man?"

"Send someone else in as a prisoner? How would that help?" queried Deacon.

"Well, Sam was able to access the old prison block once, through the vents, so it should be doable again if we had someone on the inside. And I know just the guy, if he's willing."

"You know a guy." Bobby stated flatly. "And he'd be willing to put his ass and life on the line for Sam?"

"Without a second's hesitation."

"Call him."

—-

"Dad, that was epic! Did you see how far that head flew?" Wiping blood spray off his face, Hoyt grinned happily across the dim barn, oblivious to the headless bodies littering the floor. Across the room, an older man was wiping his blade off on the jacket of one such body. Looking up at his son, he shook his head partly in amusement and partly in dismay.

"Son, you find way too much enjoyment in hunting." Vic Rawlings reprimanded lightly, even as his eyes spoke his affection.

"It was what I was born to do." was the simple reply. Vic couldn't disagree. He knew Hoyt had spent years of rebellion on the run as a thief and criminal, in and out of prison, before he had encountered the Winchester brothers and learned of the existence of ghosts and other such monsters. That adventure had unexpectedly reunited father and son, and had led to a new passion and career that Hoyt was, unsurprisingly, incredibly good at. Working swiftly and quietly, the two men finished dealing with the remains of the now decimated vampire nest, then headed back to their hotel to clean up.

Hoyt emerged from his shower in a cloud of steam to the sound of his phone ringing. Looking curiously at the unknown number, he answered gruffly, "Yeah."

"Hoyt?" came an uncertain response.

"Dean Winchester!" he responded enthusiastically, "It's been forever, man! How are you? How's Sam?" His smile faded as his questions were met with silence. He hadn't spent tons of time with the Winchester boys, but they had bonded quickly, and he knew the silence boded no good. "What's wrong? Is Sam - ?"

"He's alive." Dean responded quickly. "But he's in trouble. I - I hate to ask, but I need your help."

"Done."

"You haven't even heard what I'm asking of you…"

"Done." he restated firmly, "When and where?"

"How far are you from Little Rock?"

"I can be there by end of day. My Dad's with me, should I bring him?"

"More the merrier. I'll send you coordinates. And Hoyt? Thanks."

—-

A/N: The character Hoyt Rawlings is borrowed from the tv show Walker, although his story does not stick to his show's canon after I start playing with him. If you're interested you can read about how the Winchesters and Rawlings first meet in my story Ghost Walker.