A.N.: Many thanks to Kaz for her wonderful beta'ing. All mistakes are mine. Also many thanks to everyone for reading - I hope I didn't disappoint you with this story. To everyone who took the time to review: Many, many thanks!! Reading your thoughts, getting feedback of any kind, it always means the world to me. Thank you! :)

Dean was bored to death as he flipped through the hospital's TV programs. He had always hated daytime TV, but somehow it seemed to be worse when he was forced to watch it because there was nothing else to do.

"Boring. Boring. Boring. I'd rather be in hell. Boring. Boring … oh!" Dean's interest was sparked at a show about several good looking, scantily dressed women posing for some off-screen photographer. "Nice." He grinned.

He glanced over at his brother who was lying in the bed next to him. He was still sleeping soundly. Sam was missing out on all the fun, Dean thought grinning as his eyes returned to the TV, enjoying the stimuli immensely.

In that moment, a soft knock on the door was heard and it opened to reveal Sheriff Parson. Quietly, he stepped into the room. "Mr. Kent, how are you?" He asked as he reached for a chair and sat down next to Dean's bed. He kept his voice low so as not to wake up the sleeping patient in the other bed.

Suppressing a sigh, Dean turned off the TV. Go figure. "I'm fine."

"I'm glad to hear that. Agnes told me that your friend will fully recover as well." Parson said.

"Yeah, he was lucky." Dean stated shortly. Sam's well being was no body else's' business but his and the hospital stuff, so he changed the subject. "What brings you here?"

"I was hoping you could answer some questions for me." Sheriff Parson said, coming straight down to business.

"Sure." Dean said, giving the Sheriff his best 'I'll co-operate with you smile'. He was an expert on avoidance when it came to answering questions from authorities.

"Before I start, I wanted to …" Sheriff Parson cleared his throat before he went on. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you about where to look for your friend and Leonard Parker."

Dean raised an eyebrow in surprise. That he hadn't expected. An apology from an law enforcement officer – who would have thought that that'd ever happen to him. "Yeah, well, next time someone tells you where to look for a crashed helicopter, try to believe him." He replied dryly, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"I will." Parson said earnestly. "Now …"

His demeanor changed and all niceties and pleasantries were gone. Dean knew instantly that the friendly part of the conversation was now over.

"When we found you and your friend, there was a woman with you – she was dead. Shot, to be exact, with your weapon." Parson flipped open his notebook as he spoke.

"You checked that, huh?" Dean asked evasively.

"Yes, we did. You have an explanation for that?" Parson asked.

"Am I under arrest?" Dean asked, wanting to know how much information he needed to withhold or to give away.

"Boy, if you were under arrest, you'd be handcuffed to this bed right now and one of my men would guard that door." Parson smirked.

"I see." Dean looked curiously at him. He still didn't like the Sheriff but the fact that he hadn't arrested him after finding him next to a dead woman, shot with his gun, proved that this man was at least slightly smarter than most of his colleagues. "Her name was Elena Majovic."

Parson paled visibly and stiffened – which told Dean all he needed to know.

"That name mean anything to you?" He inquired.

Parson cleared his throat and quickly regained his composure again. "I'm the one asking the questions, remember?"

"Sure." Dean smirked.

"What exactly happened in that forest?" Parson asked.

"After I found Sam, I pulled him out of the helicopter. Lars Anderson was already dead by then." Dean paused a moment to let the information sink in; he wasn't sure if Anderson's body had already been found by the search team. Judging from Parson's reaction, Anderson's death was news to him. "We were attacked by some … strange animal." Dean went on to explain. "It attacked Lars so quickly, there was nothing I could do." He didn't mention the fact that his bullets had done nothing to stop the creature. "I was lucky to escape the thing."

Parson nodded slowly, grief over his friend's death flashing through his eyes. "What kind of animal?" He asked.

"I don't know." Dean shrugged. "I never saw anything like it."

"All right." Parson scribbled something down on his notepad before he looked up at Dean again. "Where was Leonard Parker when you found Mr. Lane in the helicopter?"

"He wasn't there anymore when I arrived. I think he was already in Elena's cabin." Dean replied.

"Elena's cabin?" Parson raised an eyebrow at Dean.

"Yeah, Sam and I found it when we tried to get back to the car. I'm afraid we got lost." Dean put on a guilty-looking expression. "We went in for the night and, well, Elena made us stay."

"She kept you hostage?" Parson asked surprised.

"Yeah, you could say that. She tied us up and hung me from the ceiling. Not the most comfortable position I ever found myself in." Dean smirked.

"I can imagine. That explains your injured wrists." Parson said, pointing at the wounds on Dean's arms.

"Leonard Parker was already dead when we got there." Dean went on sharing his slightly changed version of what really happened.

"Elena killed him?"

"I'm not sure. It looked more like he was ripped apart by an animal. Actually …" Dean hesitated a moment and looked uncomfortably at the Sheriff.

"What?" Parson urged him to go on.

"This might sound crazy to you …"

"Mr. Kent, with everything that has happened here during the last few months, nothing sounds crazy anymore." Parson assured him.

Dean nodded and went on in a lowered voice. "I think she was using that animal somehow; you know, like a hunting dog or something …"

"A hunting dog?" Parson looked thoughtfully at the young man in front of him.

Dean could practically see the Sheriff's thoughts running through his mind; he had wondered if one of the people involved in Jurij Majovic's murder had made a connection between all the deaths lately.

"Like I said, it sounds crazy." Dean said quietly.

"No, no, it, um … it actually makes more sense than you might think." Sheriff Parson mumbled.

"Oh really?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Parson looked at him for a moment, but didn't reply. "And what led to you shooting Elena Majovic? Or was Mr. Lane the shooter?" He asked instead.

"I shot her." Dean replied immediately. "We had managed to escape, but she found us and threatened to kill Sam. I had no other choice."

"I believe you." Parson said quietly. "Sometimes … sometimes you have to go beyond anything you ever thought you'd be able to do."

"Hmm, I guess so." Dean replied thoughtfully. "So I'm not in trouble because of this?"

"I'll write this down as self defense. So no, you're not in trouble." Parson said.

"Thanks." Dean smiled gratefully.

"No need to thank me. You tried to save your life and that of your friend … anyone would have done the same." Parson stood up and held his hand for Dean to take. "I wish you and Mr. Lane a quick recovery."

"Thanks."

The two men shook hands and Parson left. Dean shook his head as he watched the Sheriff close the door behind him. The man was making this way too easy for himself. He had practically compared the lynching of Jurij Majovic with Dean shooting the witch in self-defense – and how was that the same?

But Dean wasn't one to complain. If Parson hadn't been involved in Jurij's death, then Dean would most likely be under arrest by now. And a murder charge was the last thing he wanted to have to deal with.

Turning on the TV again, Dean settled back onto the bed. To his disappointment the model show from before had been replaced by a political discussion.

"Great." Dean mumbled and turned the TV off.

He rested his head on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. It was covered with hundreds of small black dots. He could count those – at least then he had something to do other than waiting for Sam to wake up. When his brother had been transferred into his room the other day, he'd hoped to have some company to make the hours pass faster – or better even, to get out of here as soon as possible.

But Sam was still weakened by the sepsis and was asleep for most of the day. He usually woke up just long enough to say a few words and take a few bites of what the hospital staff referred to as food before his eyes fell close again.

Dean knew Sam was recovering and that he needed the time. But he was going stir crazy in here! He vowed that as soon as Sam was off the IV's surrounding his bed that they would get out of here. Sam could always rest in the Impala. He would find them some nice hotel, far, far away from the Reddick Forest and this backwater town with its twisted history.

He shifted on the bed and a twitch in his abdomen reminded him that he still wasn't really well either. He sent some curses Elena's way through gritted teeth – that witch really had found the best spot to make this as painful as possible. At least he had gotten back at her for that.

As his eyes wandered back to the ceiling, Dean felt more than saw Sam shifting on the bed and immediately all his attention was focused on his brother. It was about time that the kid was waking up.

"Rise and shine, Sammy boy." Dean greeted his waking brother.

Sam stirred and a moment later his eyes fluttered open. He blinked a few times until his vision had cleared and then turned to his brother. "Was there someone here just now?" He mumbled, his voice still sounding sleepy.

"The Sheriff paid us a visit." Dean replied.

"Crap." Sam frowned, suppressing a yawn. He grimaced as he struggled to sit up and the amount of time it took him to finally pull himself to a sitting position told Dean that getting out of there probably wouldn't happen anytime this week. Damn!

"Are we in trouble?" Sam asked once he found a comfortable spot to sit.

"No." Dean shook his head. "He wrote the witch's death down to self-defense."

"Good." Sam sighed in relief. "What time is it?" He asked a moment later. Being asleep for most of the day had made him lose track of time.

"About 5.30 in the afternoon. Dinner is about to be served." Dean smirked.

"Oh, yummy." Sam grimaced. His opinion about the hospital food was even lower than his brother's.

Before Dean had a chance to reply, a ringing tone was heard coming out of Sam's nightstand. The younger Winchester cast a guilty look at his brother and then quickly – or rather as quickly as possible – reached for the drawer to get his cell phone out.

"A snail is moving faster than you." Dean mocked him.

Sam narrowed his eyes at him as he answered his phone. "Yes?" He asked in a low voice.

Dean rolled his eyes. "What are they gonna do? Throw you out of the hospital?"

"Jade, hey." Sam's face lit up and for the moment all hospital rules and mocking brothers were forgotten.

Sighing, Dean turned on the TV again. Sam's phone calls with Jessica's sister always took their time – the last week had told him as much. It really was amazing how long these two could talk over the phone, especially considering that they had only left Jade not even two weeks ago.

And of all times she could have called, must she have chosen the one moment Sam was actually awake and coherent enough to have a conversation with him? That woman had the worst timing – literally.

Slightly annoyed, Dean started flipping through the TV channels again, listening to Sam's side of the phone call with half an ear.

"Yes, I'm fine." Sam just said, the still weak tone of his voice proving the exact opposite of what he was saying. "We've just been in the woods for the last few days and didn't have a connection there. ….. No, it wasn't too bad. Just ended up with a few scratches, the usual. How are you?"

Dean looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow. Fine? He mouthed.

Sam ignored him. "That's great. Say hi to everyone for me. … Yeah, um, I miss them too." His eyes downcast, Sam shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Tired? No, um, yeah, a bit … uh, I didn't get much sleep last night. … Why would I lie to you? … No, I told you, I'm … okay, maybe more than just a few scratches. But it's no big deal, don't worry. … Hospital? Why would I be … I'm not … How do you even … Okay, yeah, fine, I'm in hospital, but I'll be out of here tomorrow so it's really not that bad."

Tomorrow? Dean asked silently, cocking an eyebrow at Sam. His brother was already struggling to stay awake again and Jade obviously had picked up on it. No way would she ever believe him that he'd be released the next day. Even Dean had to begrudgingly admit that tomorrow was too early for his brother, no matter how much he wanted out of here.

He listened some more to Sam's conversation and his slightly altered story – he was giving Jade the child proof version of what had happened to them, leaving out things as the helicopter crash, the Hrian's obsession with hearts, his attack on Sam and his near dying from sepsis. And all this without even blushing – his brother was a damn good liar when it came to other people. It was a good thing that Dean could read him like an open book no matter how much Sam tried, because otherwise this talent of him would really drive him nuts.

Sam's replies got less and less as Jade seemed to do most of the talking – probably giving him a run down for trying to keep his injuries from her. Grinning, Dean turned his attention to the TV again, this time stopping his channel flipping at a rerun of an old action movie.

A few minutes later, a knock on the door announced the second visitor for the day. After Dean's call to enter, Mitzy Dayton entered the room. She was holding magazines and a few packs of chocolate in her hands.

"Hello you two. Agnes finally allowed for you to have non-related visitors." Mitzy smiled warmly as she sat down on the chair Sheriff Parson had vacated just a few minutes ago. "Probably has to do with you not having any relatives here at all. Here, this is for you. Share it with Sam when he wakes up."

"Wakes up?" Surprised, Dean turned to his brother – and found him sleeping soundly on the bed, the phone resting in his limp hand. The peeping dial tone told him that Jade had already ended the call, she had probably figured that Sam had fallen asleep in mid-conversation. So she was a smart girl after all, Dean thought grinning. Being the good big brother that he was, Dean stretched and reached over to Sam's bed and fetched the phone. He grimaced in pain when his abdominal injuries protested against the movement.

"That bad, huh?" Mitzy stated sympathetically.

"Ah, this is nothing." Dean waved it off. "Thanks for these." He pointed at the magazines and chocolate.

"I figured since you didn't have any relatives in town, there would be no one to get you the usual hospital presents." She shrugged. "So, don't let me wait, now. Tell me everything." Her eyes beamed with excitement as she readied herself for an exciting tale to hear. No doubt most of it would appear in the town's newspaper the next day.

And Dean didn't really feel like telling the whole story again – especially since he didn't feel comfortable lying to the older woman. He had warmed up to her and that didn't happen very often in his line of work. "You know, I'm really tired and I just told all of it to the Sheriff. Maybe you can just get his notes and copy them?" He faked a yawn.

Mitzy rolled his eyes. "I just tried to squeeze any information out of him. But he's terribly tight-lipped about this case." She sighed. "Oh well, I still have the burglary for the front page tomorrow."

"Burglary?" Dean asked curious.

"Oh, don't tell me you haven't heard about it." Mitzy grinned. "What kid of reporter are you?"

Dean looked slightly taken aback, but it didn't take him long to respond. "The badly injured kind of reporter. So, what burglary?"

"That's a lame excuse." Mitzy teased him. "Last night, someone broke into the hospital."

"The hospital?" Dean cut in harshly. "This hospital?"

"The very one." Mitzy confirmed.

"I didn't know there were any junkies in this town. Who would have thought." He glanced at Sam and let his eyes quickly roam the room as if he expected the burglar to jump at them any moment.

"This wasn't a junkie." Mitzy replied. "There were no medications stolen, only patient files."

"Patient files?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow. Somehow this made him even more uncomfortable than a junkie running loose in the town. "Do you know which ones were taken?"

"Well, yours were among them, if that's what you're asking. The only reason that you and your friend aren't suspects in the case is that the night nurse can confirm that neither of you has left this room last night."

"The Sheriff checked that, huh?" Dean smirked.

"He's a very thorough man."

"Apparently." Dean frowned. "So why would someone steal patient files? Has this happened here before?"

"No, never." Mitzy shook her head.

"Any suspects so far?" Dean inquired.

"Not really. They interrogated the night-watchman, apparently he has a criminal record. And an old, black Mustang has been seen driving away from the hospital late last night, so they're going after that too. But nothing substantial really."

"A black Mustang?" Dean frowned, a suspicion quickly dawning at the back of his mind.

"Yes, this mean anything to you?" Mitzy asked, studying him intently.

Dean shook his head. "I think I saw one driving around in town, but that's it." He faked another yawn, needing time for himself to figure out what all this could mean.

Mitzy picked up on it immediately. "Well, I leave you alone to get some sleep. Get well soon, Dean."

"Thanks." Putting on a smile, Dean watched her leave.

The moment the door closed behind the older woman, his smile vanished. Immediately his thoughts went back to his meeting with Carl, proud owner of a black 1964 Mustang. That car was a classic and there weren't many of those driving around in this area. But Carl hadn't struck him as someone who'd break into a hospital to steal patient files. Particularly not his and Sam's files. Of course it could only be a coincidence; their files could have been one of many that had been taken, for a reason completely unrelated to the Winchesters.

But 22 years of being part of a hunter family had taught Dean to not believe in coincidence too easily. He tried to think back of his conversation with Carl. Had the man said anything that might explain what had happened? They had talked about Carl's dead wife, his reasons for driving restlessly across the country. His wife's name had been Mary, something that had struck Dean right away. But other than that, there had been nothing strange about Carl. Just some random guy he had met in a bar and talked about cars with for a short while. And maybe it really was just total coincidence that his car had driven away from the hospital at the time of the break-in. Maybe it hadn't even been his car. Maybe Dean was just being too overly paranoid.

Or maybe they should try to get out of this town sooner than Dean had planned.

XXXXXXX

Two days later the Winchester brothers were back on the road. Against Nurse Agnes vehement protests, they had both signed the AMA papers and had left the town quickly behind them.

Something was going on and Dean was determined to find out what it was. But the Reddick Forest wasn't going to give them the answers he was looking for, so leaving was the best option.

Life had taught him as much.

While Sam dozed next to him in the passenger seat, still recovering from his numerous injuries, Dean contemplated about what he had found out the last two days.

A break-in at the hospital and their patient files stolen wasn't really that strange, if it hadn't been for another incident Sam had told him about yesterday.

The same thing had happened in Carlton City.

Just one day after they had left the town behind them, someone had broken into the town's hospital. The only things taken – patient files. And again Sam's were among those stolen. Jade had told them about it during her last phone call with Sam and when his brother had filled him in about it, Dean had nearly freaked out.

This was too much to be a coincidence anymore.

As Dean vowed to pay more attention from now on, the Impala sped down the road, bringing them away from their last hunt and towards their next one, wherever that may be.

The end.