Dean had been scrutinizing the passing scenery closely for three hours when his brother suddenly pulled over, onto the shoulder of the motorway.

“Sam! Is something wrong?” Dean turned, alarmed, still unable to keep the concern for his brother at bay. He had barely slept the past night, despite his exhaustion. Every noise, however small had woken him from dreams he couldn’t recall but that left cold fear in the pit of his stomach. Sam, on the other hand, seemed to have slept without incident and had appeared fairly well rested when Dean had finally given up on sleep around noon. Having hardly any belongings to take with them, they had quickly packed up and soon Bradfield had been behind them.

Their roles had reversed so quickly, and suddenly Sam was the one worrying about Dean. He’d insisted on driving so that Dean could get some rest and had insisted on spending part of their meagre funds on a breakfast that didn’t consist of a cup of coffee from a motel vending machine. Part of Dean longed to just let go, to go to sleep without worrying, but the hunter and older brother in him were still wary of Sam’s quick recovery. He could see Sam smile, hear him joke, but he knew his brother to well to be distracted from the real issue standing between them. Sam hadn't asked any questions, but Dean hadn’t missed the many unspoken invitations to talk about what had happened while they had been apart. Dean wouldn’t have any of it. Sam might not be happy not knowing, but anything was better than the alternative. He could live with Sam being mad at him for a few days, but he wasn’t sure he could put up with any more nightmares. Maybe their flight from the US had been a blessing in disguise. It was probably the closest Sam would ever get to a fresh start, into a life not centred on the hunt. Maybe they should go to Amsterdam after all.

Sam looked at Dean, as if pondering the question. “Yes, Dean there is something wrong.” Dean was about to interrupt him when Sam raised a hand to silence him. “You have been staring out the window for the last three hours and I know you haven’t slept. Something is wrong and we are not leaving here until you tell me what’s eating at you.”

Dean suppressed a sigh and started talking. He should have known Sam wouldn’t give up so easily.

oOo

Dean finished his account of the events of the past week. Sam had listened attentively, not taking his eyes off Dean the entire time. He appeared shaken, but composed.

“Do you think the Demon is behind this?” Sam finally asked.

“No,” Dean replied, shaking his head. “I don’t doubt it could and would follow us no matter where we go, but this doesn’t seem like the work of a demon. At least not our Demon. It would have killed you given the chance.”

“You’re probably right,” Sam conceded, not relishing the memory of what had happened the last time they’d run into the Demon. “Then what were they?”

“Does it matter?” Dean asked, already knowing that it would to his brother.

“I can't believe this is coming from you, of all people! What if burning the bodies didn’t do the trick? And why is it that I can’t remember anything about what happened? Are you sure there isn’t something else that you are not telling me?”

“Trust me, I told you everything.” Dean wished there had been another way, but at least for the moment Sam seemed to be taking things rather well.

Dean had a theory about Sam’s memory loss, one which had nothing to do with anything supernatural, but he wasn’t about to share it with his brother.

“Can we leave now? I told Phil we’d be there by nightfall. I can take over if you want to get some sleep,” Dean proposed, plastering a grin on his face.

Sam said nothing. Instead he opened the door and climbed out of the Impala. For a moment, Dean thought Sam was once again taking off, but Sam simply walked around the car, obviously to change places for the moment. Dean breathed a sigh a relief and slid over into the driver’s seat. Sam got back into the car. Dean started the engine and pulled them back onto the road.

“Thanks.”

“Huh?” Dean looked over at Sam.

“For telling me about what happened. I know…I can’t imagine what it was like for you when…”

“Stop it. I told you what you wanted to know. That’s it, end of story,” Dean interrupted Sam before he had the chance to go all ‘caring-and-sharing’ on him.

“I know; I know…no chick-flick-moments,” Sam said, raising his hands as if in defence, but there was the hint of a smile on his face. “So, how did you talk Phil into letting us stay at his place again? He thought we were demons and nearly blasted us with his shot-gun the last time we showed up.”

“Yeah, he can be a bit paranoid. But we can’t exactly be picky these days,” Dean said with a shrug. He didn't really care where they were staying, as long as they had food and a roof over their head, preferably without having to resort to petty crime.

“I guess Bradfield didn’t help. You think Tony will be pressing charges?”

“For the assault? I don’t think so. He works with the police, but I think he’s on our side on this one. Not to mention that he was pretty freaked out by these things. He probably thinks that no one would believe him anyways.”

“Isn’t it always like that?” Sam laughed.

oOo

“You can’t be serious! There is no such thing as ghosts!” Carol exclaimed when Tony told her what had really happened that night at the house. “And even if there were, I can’t believe you let a man like Dean Winchester escape!” Tony winced. He had dreaded this conversation, but he owed it to Carol to tell her the truth. Even when the truth defied rational explanation.

“I’m not pressing charges because of the assault and he wasn’t in the country for the murders and abductions. All Dean Winchester did was burn a few bodies. That may be a sign of some deep-seated pathology, but I don’t think it’s worth the hassle of international legal manoeuvring. The case will never come to trial here in England anyways,” Tony replied. He wasn’t sure what to think of Dean. It was as if he had allowed a short glimpse into another world, one filled with very different sorts of monsters than the ones he helped put behind bars. To Sam and Dean that world was real and for a few days it had been for him.

“Even if I accepted your explanation, what about all their outstanding warrants? I can’t just ignore that. I have to issue a warrant against Dean for arson and tampering with a police investigation. The DA won’t give me a choice.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t. All I can give you is my professional opinion. I don’t know enough about the cases in which they are supposedly implicated according to the FBI. It wouldn’t surprise me if some of it were true. From what little the FBI did tell us about their backgrounds, they certainly grew up in an environment that would explain their paranoid tendencies and ….”

“Tony, stop. What are you trying to say?” Carol stopped him before he had the chance to launch into a lecture.

“I can only speak for what I’ve seen and the profiles I have been able to compile based on psychiatric and statistical information. Anything else has to be decided in a court of law.”

“Good, at least we see eye to eye on that. There is a warrant out for them, but somehow I doubt that we’ll be able to find them. But if we do, they will most likely be extradited.” Carol closed the folder on her desk as if that settled the matter. It was just as well with Tony.

“I should be getting back to the university. I have papers to grade, if I don’t want to lose my job.” Tony got up and headed for the door.

“Are you sure that you are all right?” Carol called after him.

Tony stopped and turned around. “I’m not sure, Carol. I’m just not sure. I let a suspect get to me. I should know better than that.” The only consolation was that his involvement had saved at least one, if not two lives. But Dean Winchester had opened a door in his mind that should have remained closed. If he couldn’t be sure anymore that humans were the only monsters to walk the face of the earth, then what could he be sure of?

“Take some time off,” Carol told him, her voice softening.

“I will.” Tony said and meant it.

The End