As Hotch watched his team file in to the briefing room first thing Monday morning he knew something was up and exactly who it was up with. J.J. and Emily looked to be as in the dark as he was, but even Jason seemed to be in on the joke. They were playing it close to the vest but from their cheerful attitudes it wasn’t necessarily something bad. Garcia didn’t meet his eyes for more than a few seconds and Hotch would almost bet the secret had something to do with her waking him up early Saturday morning.

“I hope you all had a restful weekend,” Hotch began, noting the snort from Morgan and the look traded between Garcia and Reid. Jason looked worn out but practically beamed at him. “Something I should know?” he asked the room in general.

“We’ll talk,” Jason told him quietly.

Hotch nodded and got on with the new business at hand. The meeting went quickly and when it was over he watched the ladies leave but called Morgan back. “I see you filed for a monthly stipend for an unnamed informant this morning.”

“That’s right,” Morgan answered, closing the door. Jason and Reid looked on with interest.

“It’s not much but I’ll see what I can do,” Hotch assured him. “Not that I don’t trust you, but do you mind if I ask who this new source is?”

“Sam Winchester,” Morgan supplied without pause.

“Sam Winchester? The serial killer’s brother?” Hotch asked, frankly a little shocked by the revelation. “What information could he possibly give us?”

“Dean’s not a serial killer,” Reid objected prodding Jason and Morgan both to move to quiet him. Reid closed his mouth but didn’t look happy.

“He confessed,” Hotch said, highly aware of the silent communication running rampant among his teammates.

“Reid has ample evidence to clear Dean Winchester of all charges,” Jason declared as Reid nodded earnestly.

“You mean posthumously.”

“The confession was bogus,” Morgan agreed without actually answering the question.

“I think someone needs to start from the beginning.” Hotch squared his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest. It was time for some answers.

“Are you sure about this?” Morgan asked but he was talking to Jason and Reid. “Last chance to maintain his innocence.”

“He deserves to know what we’ve been up to,” Jason sighed before Hotch could protest the innocent remark. “And he is the boss. That predisposes a number of ugly truths not meant for general consumption. Reid?”

“I concur. Not to mention the Winchesters could be invaluable on... certain cases,” Reid proposed clinically. “Hotch needs to be in the loop for that to happen.”

“The Winchesters? You mean Sam and what was her name? Helen?”

“Ellen,” Reid corrected and of course he would know.

“I thought she wasn‘t really married to the brother.”

“Dean,” Reid insisted doggedly even as he cringed about it. He really couldn’t help it.

“Let me,” Jason told the others and they both smiled sadly and nodded as they headed out the door, closing it behind them.

“Jason...”

Jason hit him with that all powerful, intensely sympathetic gaze. “Sit down, Hotch. We need to talk.”

There had been low rumbles of thunder all evening as Bobby lounged on the couch with a newly acquired spell book, but it had yet to rain. He paid little heed at first to the low growl until it grew steady in volume into something he‘d recognize anywhere. He got up as soon as the Impala pulled into the driveway even if it wasn’t a one-step-ahead-of-a-demon roar. In fact it was more of regular, everyday Dean behind the wheel racket and that meant good news. Probably.

The boys hadn’t been gone much more than the weekend and on his last call-in Sam had assured him things had worked out just fine. Good riddance to the bitch of the well and Bobby only felt a tad embarrassed he‘d been wrong about it being the boy all those years. Sam promised to give a more detailed report as soon as they got home. In fact he‘d actually used the word ‘home’ and if that made Bobby a little misty eyed then it was nobody‘s damn business. He was not gettin’ soft in his old age.

Dean was ragging on Sam about something as they got out of the car, of course, but it was playful and Sam was giving as good as he got. No more walking on eggshells then and Bobby could’a let out a whoop of joy over it but he contained himself.

“Bobby!” Dean hollered as he pulled him in for a hug and pounded him on the back.

“Dean.” Bobby patted him back and knew right then there was something different about him. His spirit seemed lighter. “Sam,” he greeted, giving Sam a hug as well and damned if the boy didn‘t seem different as well. Better. “Well don’t just stand there, let’s move this reunion in the house before we get wet,” Bobby ordered gruffly as lightning flickered across the sky.

They all grabbed a bag or two and headed for the porch. Bobby was able to admire his handiwork as soon as they entered the halo of light streaming through the front door.

Bobby smiled wide as he looked from one neat head to the other. “Damn, I‘m good. I guess I‘ll be saving you boys a lot of money on haircuts…” For some reason they both froze on the first step causing Bobby to run into their backs just as the bottom fell out. Idjits.

It had been a long, long drive but Elmer Wedgwood finally pulled his early model station wagon into the lot of Uncle Harry’s Motor Court Motel. Knowing Uncle Harry had been in Florida for months and unable to care for his beloved motel long before that... Elmer dreaded what he would find. Sure it would be nice to semi-retire from his accounting firm and move back to his childhood home, especially now that the divorce was final, but he dreaded the amount of work it was going to take to get the place up and running again.

The motel looked about like he remembered, but much older he thought as he got out of the car; L-shaped with the tiny lobby up front on one end and all six rooms slightly to the rear in a row. He unlocked the office and flicked the light switch out of habit even though he knew the power wouldn’t be on. But it was.

And there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight. The lobby and office sparkled, just the way it had in Uncle Harry’s better days. As he wandered around in awe with stories of elves in his head he spotted an envelope taped to the front of Uncle Harry’s old twelve inch TV. Inside there was over a hundred dollars in cash. In big block letters scrawled across the front it read “Thanks for the mammaries.”

Did elves have a sense of humor? Elmer thought maybe they did. He smiled as he went to check out the rooms.

Epilogue
Six Months Later

It had been a rare slow day for the BAU and Morgan idly considered leaving a few minutes early especially since Reid and Emily wouldn’t be back from their fact finding mission until much later. J.J. smiled as she passed through with a stack of folders and Morgan realized a little guiltily that she never had a slow day.

Gideon was in his office on the phone and Hotch briefly opened his door to speak to him as he pulled on his jacket and headed towards the director’s office for their regular Friday afternoon meeting. Morgan watched him go, sending up a little wave which Hotch acknowledged with a nod. If their unflappable leader thought they were all nuts he did an exemplary job of hiding it. Life went on as usual because Aaron Hotchner didn’t believe in other worldly things hidden between shadows.

But he also trusted his team and pushed through a small monthly remuneration to an anonymous source that had already helped the FBI locate the corpses of at least eight young boys lost in a well. The forensic guys were still going crazy over the large age gap of the bones. It was a mystery they might never solve.

A flurry of motion in Gideon’s office caught Morgan’s attention just before the door flew open and Gideon came rushing down the stairs with his coat in his hand.

“What’s up?” Morgan asked as he straighten up in his chair. “We catch a case?”

“No,” Gideon explained as he fumbled for his keys. “I’ve been invited on a hunting trip,” he added in a excited whisper.

“A hunting trip?”

“Yes,” Gideon said with a huge grin.

“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of...” Morgan trailed off as Gideon shook his head. No way was he not going. “What is it?”

“It’s something called a firestarter.”

“That can’t be good, not with Dean’s pyrophobia.”

Gideon nodded hurriedly. “He’s been working on that. But he wants me there, they both do. I’m flying out to Denver to meet them right now.”

“Just be careful,” Morgan warned but doubted Gideon heard him as he was already on his way out the door. Morgan waited only a beat before grabbing his jacket and joining him. He couldn’t help but grin as he caught up. Winchester would be pissed. But it wouldn’t be the first party he’d crashed. And it wouldn’t be the last.

"The defects and faults of the mind are like wounds in the body; after all imaginable care has been taken to heal them up, still there will be a scar left behind."

François de la Rochefoucauld.

The End