Hi - I'm back and about to break my own rule about posting WIP. I have been working on this story on and off for about a year (among other unfinished stories) and I didn't want to post it until I was finished. But...with the COVID19 quarantine, I figure I have enough time to write and stay ahead of my posting schedule. I also hope this story might provide my readers with a pleasant distraction from all scary news happening around the world right now. This story takes place in season 11 between 11.04 Baby and 11.05 Thin Lizzie. It would take about a month for Dean to restore the Impala after the beating she takes in Baby, so for those sticklers, this would be early August 2015. I'm posting two chapters now and then another chapter every Thursday.
Warning: This story talks about sexual assault, albeit in a very general, non graphic, legal way.
The parking spots out front of Millford's Sunshine Diner were filled with the usual mix of vehicles, but it was still too early for the dinner crowd. Which suited Dave just fine. He was hoping to get in, get a dish of Carol's Green Chile Cheese Fries, and get home again before his wife looked up from her gardening and noticed him gone. Margo had him and the kids on this no-carb, no-dairy, no-meat, and no-taste diet. He loved his wife, but there was no way he was going to function on tofu, quinoa and kale.
The parking lot around the corner of the bright yellow building was pretty empty, so he found a spot, and then dug his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans. He was about to get out of the truck when a big, sleek black car pulled into the lot. For a second, he just admired the beauty and power of the machine, but it was when he caught sight of the two men in the vehicle that his brain kicked in gear and his pulse jumped. Dumping his wallet on the dash, he pulled out his phone and dialed. The phone rang in his ear 3 times before the snick sound told him it had been answered.
"Sheriff MacCallum," his friend's greeting was gruff and impatient as usual, but Dave didn't let that squash his excitement.
"Hey Brian, it's Dave. I found him."
Dean dragged his last few fries through a little puddle of the spicy chili and stuffed them into his mouth with an exaggerated moan. Sam huffed a laugh and pointed at him with his fork.
"Do you need some privacy, dude?" He ducked the crumpled napkin Dean tossed at his head, and instead stabbed a forkful of his salad, carefully spearing a bit of mandarin with his bite. This was one of the best salads he'd had in a while. The lettuce was crisp, the dressing was tangy and the combination of fruits, veggies and nuts hit all the right notes. He was glad Dean had insisted on stopping for a late lunch. At first sight, the brilliantly yellow building was off putting, but inside the place was clean and cozy, and the food was great. Their waitress Carla, had been especially attentive to him, smiling, tossing her hair, and ignoring Dean's blatant attempt to flirt. The ego boost was flattering and he was going to enjoy razzing his brother about it during the rest of the trip home.
Pushing aside his empty plate, he relaxed back against the banquette and stretched his legs out under the table. Dean seemed similarly comfortable, and when Carla came back to top up their coffees, his brother ordered a slice of rocky road pie.
Funny, when Dean had invited him to come on the drive to Indianapolis, he'd almost refused. The Darkness was out there and they still knew practically nothing about it. But he was happy that he decided to go along for the ride. They'd been forced to take almost a month off from hunting while Dean fixed the car and Sam rehabbed his injured knee. He'd been researching almost non stop during that time, with nothing to show for it except eye strain. Other than the occasional run into town for supplies, this trip to pick up a part for the car had been the first time they'd been back on the road since their run in with that nachzehrer in Oregon. It had been an enjoyable trip; no pressure, no hunting and lots of bonding time with his brother. Sam was content to just sit back, drink his coffee and watch Dean savour his pie. Once the plate was clean, Dean groaned again and patted his stomach.
"So good, Sammy," he said with a satisfied smile. Dean drained the last of his coffee and fished his wallet out of his jeans leaving enough to cover the bill and a generous tip. They slid out of the booth and Carla, who was busy at another table, waved goodbye, with what seemed like a wistful smile for Sam. Dean slapped him hard on the shoulder, purposely distracting him from the lovely waitress.
"Hey, I'm gonna hit the head, I'll meet you at the car, Romeo." Dean laughed over his shoulder as he headed down the corridor to the men's room. Sam ambled out of the diner, pleasantly full and at ease. The sun was high in the air, but the heat of the August day was accompanied by a lovely breeze. He turned the corner and took about three strides into the parking lot, when he heard the familiar, yet heart stopping sound of a shotgun being cocked. Whirling around, he reached for his gun in a single fluid motion.
"Stop! Hands in the air." Sam froze. The man holding the shotgun was flanked by a Sheriff in uniform, pointing a revolver at him. Sam, swiveled his head to look for a way out, or even just for a way to warn Dean. He was surrounded. They had to have been waiting for him. He counted at least 8 guns pointed at him, and the men holding them all looked like they were extremely comfortable with using them. There was no way he could fight his way out of this, so he slowly raised his hands and put on his most innocent expression.
"What's going on, officer?" The Sheriff seemed to be the one in charge because he ignored Sam's question and issued another order.
"Slowly put your hands behind your head, interlock your fingers and get on your knees. Now!" Sam did as he was told, hoping against hope that Dean wouldn't come strolling around the corner right into this mess.
Washing his hands in the sink, Dean had to smirk at the green apple scented soap. It smelled like something Sam would use. As he dried his hands, he had to admit that spending this trip with Sammy, just kicking back, enjoying the drive, was just what he needed. It reminded him of when they were younger, and times were simpler. It was nice to just be brothers for a little while.
He made his way back out of the diner, admiring Carla's fine figure as he went. The day was beautiful, and he was looking forward to the rest of the trip home. Plenty of time to rib Sam about his recent popularity among waitresses. Humming a little to himself, he sauntered back towards the car. When he cleared the corner of the building he was shocked to find Sam, on his knees at gunpoint. There had to be at least 8 armed men aiming at his brother while a uniformed cop put Sam into handcuffs. Immediately Dean tried to duck back around the corner. If they didn't see him, he could figure out what was going on and then stage a rescue. But luck wasn't on his side and the closest guy spotted him before he could take a step.
"Hey, you. Hands in the air!" The guy was dressed in shorts and a polo, as if he'd left a barbecue to come participate in Sam's arrest, but he was alert and ready. The man beside him was in full Sheriff's uniform, his badge catching the light. The armed men all looked to the Sheriff for direction, so Dean plastered on a smile, and did as he was told.
"Uh, what's going on officer?," he said politely, his hands loosely above his head. Dean cast a short glance Sam's way, but his brother's face was obscured by his hair. The Sheriff came towards him. Despite his authoritative presence, Dean could see that he was only about his age. Still, Dean recognized competence when he saw it.
"You must be Dean," the Sheriff said. "Well I'm sorry to tell you that your brother Sam is under arrest. As long as you don't cause any trouble, we've got no reason to arrest you too." Dean read the badge on the man's chest - Sheriff B. MacCallum. They both turned to watch as two of the men helped Sam to his feet. They weren't rough with him, but by the grim looks on their faces, they would rather not be touching him. As they began moving Sam, one of the men with a badge pinned to his shirt read him his rights. Then they marched him to a nearby SUV with "Kempville Sheriff's Department" written on the door in white script.
"Wait, where are you taking him? What is he charged with?" Dean first instinct was to start throwing punches and drag Sam away from the men who were folding him into the vehicle, but it wasn't worth the risk of getting his brother shot. Plus, Sam's body language was all wrong. He wasn't tensed, ready to act if an opening arose, if anything Sammy looked ashamed, he kept his head down and climbed into the vehicle purposely not looking Dean's way.
"Your brother's being charged with rape." An incredulous laugh involuntarily forced its way out of Dean and he shook his head. The sheriff's jaw tightened in anger. Dean wasn't trying to be insulting, but he couldn't help his reaction.
"Rape? Sammy? No way! No, there's got to be a mistake, Sam would never do something like that. He's practically a monk. He blushes if a girl even flirts with him!" Dean was dumbfounded. He and Sam had done a lot of criminal stuff over the years. Things that would earn either one of them a lengthy stint in prison or worse, but there was absolutely no way Sam would force himself on a girl. It just wasn't possible.
"Oh, there's no mistake." With a hard look of disdain, the Sheriff turned his back on Dean and began walking over to the SUV where Sam sat dejected in the back seat. Dean followed him, but Sheriff MacCallum paused and put out a hand stopping him from getting closer.
"Sorry. Look, I'm afraid it doesn't look good for Sam. I suggest you head on home, but can follow us back to Kempville if you want." And with that, he shook hands with a number of the men who then moved off towards other cars. MacCallum and his deputy climbed into the SUV.
Dean sprinted to the Impala and jumped inside, ignoring the heat that had built up in the black car. He gunned the engine and followed the SUV as it pulled out of the parking lot. Sam finally turned to look back at him, and he caught a glimpse of his brother's solemn face through the rear window.