bhoney won two stories from me in the Support Stacie auction. The first one is complete and she said she would like it posted for others to enjoy and we hope you do! The ep this one is based on should be obvious after the first few paragraphs. It is posting complete.

This is set in the PWD 'verse, where Dean and Sam were adopted and raised by John's business partner and his wife after their mother's death. The story takes place after Problems With Dean: Road Trip. The three brothers are still on the road hunting things that go bump in the night. If you've never read any of the Problems With Dean stories, you're going to wonder "who the hell is Mikey?"

Oh, and bhoney? I know this was part of your birthday present to yourself, so Happy Birthday!!

Problems With Dean: Bent Out of Shape

"I'm going back to the room," Sam announced. The three brothers sat at a sticky table in the back of a smoky bar. Dean was looking to blow off a little steam and Mikey had been anticipating a brotherly evening. Leave it to Sam to spoil a perfectly good plan.

Mikey scowled at his older brother. "We can play darts with three people, Sam."

"Lay off, Mikey," Dean admonished. "All princesses need beauty sleep."

Mikey laughed as Sam rolled his eyes. He held up that stupid hunting journal. "I'm going to do a little reading. This case is bugging me. I can't figure out what might be behind these disappearances."

Dean shrugged at him. "You can do that after a couple more beers, Sam."

"Nah," Sam replied with a shake of his head. "You two stay, have fun. I'll see you later."

Mikey heard Dean sigh as Sam left the bar.

"Didn't you tell me once that him being a pain in the ass was just a stage?" Mikey asked.

Dean laughed lightly as he picked up his beer bottle from the table. "Guess I was wrong. Must be a personality trait."

Mikey joined in the laugh. Next he would prod Dean into a game of darts. Sam could be a wet blanket all he wanted, Mikey was determined to have a good time anyway.

Sam walked through the parking lot towards their motel. It was just a couple of blocks over. A noise, like a footfall, reached his ears. He paused to glance around, but no one was there. Strange. Then again, it was night and all noises seemed more ominous after dark.

Pain exploded from the back of his head and darkness shrouded his sight. The last thing he saw before blacking out was a man missing some teeth grinning at him.

After one game of darts, Dean begged off playing again. Mikey could be as pushy as Sam when he wanted, especially if he thought he needed to make up for something Sam did or said.

"Nah, we should go," Dean insisted. "We are on a case. There are more people to interview tomorrow and I'd rather not do it hungover."

Mikey shrugged. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, Dean."

"Come on, squirt," Dean said with a shove at Mikey's shoulder. "I'll buy you some of those powdered donuts you like for breakfast and I won't make you share."

Mikey laughed at him, whatever tension that had been in his expression broken. "Promise?"

"Bank on it," Dean promised. "Now let's go harass Sammy."

As they headed out, Mikey made a few juvenile suggestions on how they could annoy Sam. Dean was deciding if he would actually let Mikey do any of them when he spotted a thick book on the ground behind a parked car. He stopped to lean over and pick it up.

"Dad's journal?" Dean flipped it open. Definitely Dad's journal. Sam would never have dropped this. Not unless... "Sam!" His heart pounded in his chest and it was growing hard to breathe. "Sammy! Sam!"

"Sam!" came Mikey's echoing cry.

"Mikey, go check the room!" Dean ordered as his eyes scoured the pavement. After Mikey ran off, he noticed tire marks where something big took off in a hurry. "Damn it, Sam," he muttered under his breath, "now what am I supposed to do?"

The last thing Dean wanted to do was take a pissed off, worried and guilty Mikey into the local police station, but there was no leaving the big guy behind. As a matter of fact, Dean was pretty sure he had not been out of Mikey's sight for more than twenty seconds since they confirmed that Sam had disappeared. And honestly, it was a relief not to have to worry about both of them.

"Sam Peavy," the lady cop repeated, typing into her computer terminal. "You do know that, legally, an adult is not considered missing for forty-eight hours?"

"Lady, he was taken!" Mikey snapped.

"Excuse me," Dean said smoothly with an apologetic smile. He shoved Mikey out of the woman's office back into the waiting area. "Park it," he ordered, pointing to a seat. Mikey glowered at him. Dean gave the big guy a shove into the chair and a nasty glare. Mikey was still pissed off, but he stayed seated. Thank God. Like Dean didn't have enough to deal with at the moment.

Dean returned to the sheriff's office. "Sorry about that. My baby brother is a little..." Dean shrugged. "Protective?"

She rose out of her chair to peer over the computer screen. "I can understand that," she replied, "but legally there's nothing I can do."

Dean scooted his chair closer. "Look, there is no way Sam would take off on us like that. No way. We're going to look for him, with or without your help. I just figured coming here first was a better idea than trying to go it alone." He stood up with a sad shake of his head. "Sorry to waste your time."

She sighed lightly, her eyes following him. "No. Wait." She stood to face Dean. "Look, you can't file a missing person's report, but I can look around. Where was the last place you saw him?"

"The bar on fifth," Dean replied quickly.

Her brow furrowed. "That's odd. There was a boy last week who reported seeing a monster attack a man there. And I know that was the last place another missing person was seen." She tapped a finger against her desk. "Leave me your contact information. I'll let you know if I find anything."

Not exactly the answer he had been hoping for, but it was better than nothing. Dean scribbled his and Mikey's cell numbers down before leaving. Mikey looked fit to be tied in the waiting area.

"Come on," Dean said with a wave of his arm, "let's go."

"Well?" Mikey demanded when they were outside.

"She's going to look into it," Dean replied. "But I think it'll really be up to..."

The low growl of a bad engine reached his ears. Dean turned to watch a beat-up van turn up the street, away from the police station. "Now that sounds like a growl to me. Like a monster. What do you think?"

He turned to look at his baby brother. The red had faded from Mikey's face. "Like that kid said, right? So you're thinking whatever-it-was drove off with Sam?"

"Got a better idea?" Dean asked. "We can check out some of the local roads around here for fresh tire tracks."

Mikey rubbed his eyes. "Well, it's not like we're going to be able to sleep. Might as well do something useful. Let's start back at the bar and ask around. Someone may have heard something."

A throbbing headache pulsed from the back of Sam's head. He reached back to touch the tender lump, pulling away blood-sticky fingers. "Great," he muttered. "Now I'm the klutz."

He opened his eyes to find himself in a large cage. Uh-huh. Now that doesn't happen everyday. He rolled up on his knees. There was just enough room for him to balance on his feet in a crouch, with his head ducked down. Sam couldn't imagine what these cages had been intended for.

"Psst! Hey!"

Sam tracked the voice back to a man in another cage exactly like his. He peered into the semi-dark. They were in some kind of large structure, like a barn. There were at least two full rows of cages. The other man was across the way and a couple of cages down.

"Who are you?" Sam asked, sitting on the ground.

"Name's Jenkins," the man called in a subdued tone.

"Jenkins?" That name sounded familiar. "Wait, Alvin Jenkins? We were looking for you."

"Great. Ya found me." Jenkins shook his head at Sam. "Now what?"

"My brothers will be looking for us. They'll-"

"They won't find us," Jenkins snapped. "We're in the middle of nowhere, waiting for these guys to do god-knows-what to us."

"What guys?" Sam asked. "Do you know what took us? What it wants?"

"It?" The sounds of a door opening reached them. "See for yourself." Jenkins motioned to the far side of the building before shrinking back into his cage.

Two men walked up. One opened a panel on the wall and twisted a key in it. The lock on Jenkins' cage popped open. He screamed at them to leave him alone as one of their abductors set down a plate of food. After stepping out, the second abductor twisted the key again, relocking the cage. The two men left without a word.

"I'll be damned," Sam said to himself. "They're just people."

"Yeah," Jenkins said through a full mouth as he stuffed the food in. "What'd you expect?"

Sam shook his head in disbelief. After reading Dad's entry in the journal about this area, he had been certain some kind of phantom attacker was responsible. Just people. Actually, that was a pretty scary thought. Supernatural creatures had rules and habits, certain restrictions to what they could and could not do. People, on the other hand, could become just as sick and cruel as they wanted. Great. He was going to have to stop teasing Dean about those kidnapping dreams.

"How often do they feed you?" Sam asked, scoping out the area around his cage.

"Once a day. They use that," Jenkins motioned to the box on the wall, "to open the locks."

"And that's it?" Sam asked.

"So far," Jenkins replied. "But I'm waitin'."

"For what?" Sam reached up through the bars to snag a cable. He tugged on it experimentally.

"I figure these are redneck hillbillies lookin' for love in all the wrong places."

Sam looked over to see if the man was serious. "Honestly, I think that's the least of your worries."

Mikey crawled around on all fours over the area where Dean found that stupid journal. Nothing. He crawled out to find Dean staring across the road.

"What?" Mikey demanded.

Dean motioned towards a traffic camera across the way. "I wonder if the lady cop is going to check those tapes?"

Mikey bumped his brother's shoulder. "We could." He grinned. "I've been wanting a new ID."

Dean shook his head at his brother. "Kid, you are freaking hopeless."

"Come on," Mikey insisted, grabbing Dean by the arm. "Let's go."

"What's your name again?" Jenkins asked. He slouched against the far cage wall, watching Sam work with clear disapproval.

"Sam," he grunted, tugging on the cable.

"Give it up, Sammy," Jenkins told him. "We're not getting out here like that."

"Never...give...up!" Sam grunted, pulling harder. It popped loose with metal clang.

"What was that?" Jenkins demanded.

Sam retrieved the fallen metal. "It's a bracket."

"Oh. Good. A bracket." Jenkins snorted. "Well, we got 'em now, don't we?"

A snapping noise and then Jenkins' cage door unlocked and swung slightly open. The other man's eyes lit up. "Hey, must've been a short."

"Go back in there," Sam warned, all the hair standing up on the back of his neck. This was wrong.

"I'll send someone back for you," Jenkins promised.

"No, I'm serious," Sam insisted. "It's too easy. Go back. It must be a trap."

Jenkins stood by his cage and shook his head. "I'll tell 'em where you are. Honest. Bye, Sammy." He patted the bars of Sam's cage as he slunk past.

"Wait!"

It was too late. Jenkins slipped past and out the door, which was also conspicuously unlocked. Sam had a real bad feeling. The door to Jenkins' cage slammed shut and locked. Sam squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. Totally set up.

"There," Dean said, pointing out a van leaving the bar parking lot right around the time Sam disappeared. "That must be it."

The viewing room was empty since it was four in the morning. Mikey couldn't wait until morning to try out using a fake ID, so they had broken in.

"There are more cameras, right? So we can track the van?" Mikey demanded.

"Yep."

Dean froze. Either Mikey's voice had grown seriously higher in the last two seconds, or they were totally busted. He turned slowly to find the lady sheriff glaring at them from the doorway. Dean gave her an embarrassed half-smile. He lifted one hand and twiddled his fingers at her. "Hi?"

"Try again, Peavy," she snapped. "You are both under arrest. Breaking and entering. Obstruction of justice."

"Obstruction!" Mikey snapped.

Oh, lord, here we go. Dean winced at what he knew was coming.

"Look, lady!" Mikey rose to display his rather impressive stature. His shoulders squared and his chest puffed out. "That's OUR brother out there, and we're going to find him! We can't wait around while God-knows-what happens to him!" His nostrils flared and his eyes sparked with anger.

Dean took an automatic step away. There really was no dealing with Mikey when he was out of control.

"Either help, or get the hell outta our way!" he roared.

She took two steps closer and peered calmly up at Mikey. "I'll expect you to fill out the appropriate missing persons paperwork."

"Fine," Dean agreed quickly before Mikey could open his big trap again. They were undoubtedly walking a thin line between being helped and arrested.

"Then move. I'll bring up the footage from the other cameras," she announced.

Mikey stepped aside, his face still hot and red. She sat in the chair and swapped out the tapes. "My name is Kathleen," she said conversationally. "I figure we ought to be on a first-name basis."

"Dean," he said feeling gratitude for her. "The big guy is Mikey."

Her hands paused over the controls as she shot Dean a questioning look. "Mikey?"

"It was that or Baby Huey," he said as Mikey rolled his eyes. Dean slapped him in the shoulder. "Dude. Breathe."

He leaned over the lady cop's shoulder. "You saw the van we found, right?"

Kathleen nodded, bringing up the tape from the next camera. "This might take a little while, but we'll figure out how far out of town it went."

Jenkins didn't come back. Sam was all alone in the barn now. Whatever plans they had had for Jenkins, soon they would have similar plans for Sam. He held the metal bracket tight in his fist. Where the hell were Dean and Mikey?

"So we know it passed this camera," Dean said, pointing out marks on a county map. "But not this one. So the van must've turned off the road along here."

Kathleen nodded in agreement. "Looks like. There are a few county roads back there and some local dirt roads. We'll have to check them out in person."

She turned away, as if to leave. Dean grabbed her by the arm. "Hang on. Why are you doing this?"

Kathleen turned back slowly.

"I mean, by all rights, you should've arrested us the second you found us here. Why are you helping us?" He felt Mikey close in beside him, a comforting heat coming from his left side.

She cleared her throat. "I, uh, have a brother too." Her gaze darted away from them. "He disappeared about five years ago, just like your brother." Her head shook slowly. "We looked, combed the whole county, but never found him." She cleared her throat as she straightened up and squared her shoulders. Her eyes held determination. "We're going to find Sam."

Kathleen pulled off the paved road, parking short of a dirt road which looked like it led to private property. The fence facing the road was overgrown with weeds and had towering trees blocking anything behind them from view. She checked her weapon before opening her car door.

"You two stay here," she ordered. "There's supposed to be a house down there. I'm going to check it out."

Mikey tried to protest but Dean recognized that look. It was the same look Mom had when the answer was 'no' and no amount of whining, begging or pleading would help. Dean stood aside to let her pass, blocking Mikey from following.

"We'll be here," he promised as she shot them another strong look to stay.

"We will?" Mikey whispered. Dean planted an elbow in his ribs, a warning. He smiled reassuringly at the cop. Her brow furrowed, but she continued up the dirt road on foot.

"Wait," he whispered back as she passed the gate. Kathleen turned around again to check on them. Dean gave her a wave and a smile. "Wave," he hissed under his breath.

Mikey held up a hand and gave it a quick twist in the air. "When?" he whispered.

"Just a sec," Dean replied, still smiling at the cop.

Kathleen stared at the two of them for a moment before opening the gate and walking through.

"Five...," Dean counted down, "four...three...two....one." He bumped Mikey's shoulder. "Let's go find Sam."

"I can't believe she didn't try to cuff us to the car," Mikey observed.

Dean shrugged, following his baby brother into the woods beside the road. "Dude, when you catch a lucky break, don't question it."

There was a break in the lousy barb wire fence where a small tree had been blown over. Mikey stepped on the fallen trunk, testing if it would hold his weight. With a confident look at Dean, he stepped up and over. Dean followed, stepping lightly in the path of his brother. When they reached the edge of the treeline, Mikey dropped back to give Dean the lead.

Dean moved as quietly as he could through the underbrush, keeping an ear tuned for any telltale sounds of people. He could hear Kathleen rapping on the front door of the ramshackle house loud and clear. He moved them closer, hoping they would be able to see what was happening.

"Hello there." Kathleen seemed surprised and her voice went up an octave. "Is your mom or dad home?"

Dean strained to hear what the child in the house had to say, but he couldn't make it out.

"What's going to hurt?"

A loud clanging sound rang out. Dean fell from his hiding place behind a large oak. Kathleen was on the ground, out cold, with a man holding a shovel standing over her. Holy crap! He scrambled back behind the tree. These were the bastards who had Sam. He could feel it in his gut.

"Boys!" a man's voice rang out. "We got a problem!"

Problem. Yeah, they had a massive frigging problem. Boys. More than one. So at least three men. The sheriff was out for the count. Sam was being held. That left only him and Mikey.

Maybe... Maybe if he could draw their attention, Mikey could grab Sam and the chick cop. All they had to do was find out where they took her. If these assholes grabbed people regularly, and Dad's research as well as the high incidences of missing persons around here sure pointed to that, then they would probably take her to the same place where they were holding Sam.

Good plan.

Dean waved Mikey back before two large guys, the 'boys', headed down the road grumbling at each other. He overheard enough to know they were in trouble for the law following them home. It looked like 'Pa' would be taking Kathleen someplace himself.

"Follow," he mouthed at Mikey, pointing out Kathleen. Mikey's eyes narrowed and his head shook slightly. Dean grimaced. Stubborn bastard. "Sam," he hissed, pointing out where Pa was taking the woman.

The stubborn look faded as Mikey peered through the leaves and branches. He nodded once before moving away, heading around the far side of the house. It always amazed Dean that Mikey could move that fast or quiet. Great. Now all he had to do was wait until he thought Mikey had found Sam, then he would put his plan into action.

Mikey rounded the house on the far side in time to see the older man carrying the cop over his shoulder head into the barn. He waited, wondering what in the hell Dean was planning. Whatever it was, Mikey was pretty sure it would piss him off but it would probably get the job done. Older brothers were such a pain in the ass. Why were they always getting themselves into trouble?

The old man came back out of the barn empty handed. Good. It meant the cop was still inside and that meant Sam might be in there too. Mikey headed into the woods again and made his way around to the far side of the barn. He heard the voices of men talking but he ignored it. As long as they weren't heading for the barn, he didn't care. He found a door which was oddly unlocked. Not promising.

Mikey pushed it closed behind him. It took a couple of minutes for his eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the barn. He could hear some things moving around in here and for a moment he hoped it was barn animals. Then his better sense kicked in and he knew it had damn well better be Sam. Along one wall it looked like there were dog kennels, real heavy duty ones.

"Sssshhh!"

Now that was a human sound. Mikey walked slowly along the kennels until he spotted a dark lump inside one. "Sam?" he whispered hopefully.

"Mikey!" Sam gushed. "Oh, man, I've never been so happy to see you! Where's Dean?"

He tugged experimentally on the cage door. It wouldn't budge. "Outside watching the house."

"What!" Sam hissed. "Oh, dude, he's going to do something stupid and noble, isn't he?"

"Depends on how long it takes to get you out of here, I think," Mikey whispered back.

"What do you mean by stupid and noble?" Kathleen asked from the next cage.

"No telling," he replied in unison with Sam.

"I can't open this," Mikey hissed, yanking on the door.

"There's a control box over there," Sam waved at one of the support beams through his bars. "But you need a key to operate it."

"Where's the key?" Mikey asked.

"They keep it around their necks," Sam replied.

Mikey glared at the response. Sam shrugged. Yeah, okay, it wasn't like that was Sam's fault.

"Damn." He shook his head at Sam. "Back soon," he promised.

"Be careful," Sam called out softly.

Yeah, right. Mikey slipped out the side door and made his way through the woods back towards the house. A snap to his right stopped him dead. Mikey held his breath and listened intently for the source of the noise.

"Dude."

"Jesus, Dean," Mikey breathed out. He turned around to find his big brother studying him from behind a tree. "Don't scare me like that."

"Did you find Sam?" Dean demanded.

"Yeah. They have him and the lady cop in cages. There's some kind of key that opens the lock," Mikey explained. "I guess they wear it like a necklace."

Dean made a sour face. "So we have to catch one? Well that's just frigging great. I guess we'll-" His head spun to the side and his eyes narrowed. Dean motioned for Mikey to move behind him.

No way. His breath catching in his throat, Mikey moved slowly behind his brother, hoping Dean was just overreacting. Two guys, the same two they had watched go down the road to stash the cop car, stepped out into the open. They looked more menacing up close. And dirtier.

"I got this," Dean growled, waving Mikey further back. He hoped Dean wouldn't catch a disease from fighting these guys,

One of the guys tried to grab Dean. Mikey nearly laughed, knowing Dean could take these sickos in his sleep. Then he felt a hard jab in his back. Slowly turning his head, Mikey saw the older guy, 'Pa', standing behind him.

"D-Dean?" he asked weakly, eyes only on Pa.

"Not...now!"

Pa grimaced and shook his head. "Damn kids," he muttered. Then Mikey felt a sharp pain across the side of his head followed by blackness.

Dean's head felt heavy and it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. He tried to lift a hand to rub at the throbbing part of his skull, but he couldn't. His arms felt lashed down. Dean pried his eyes open. He was inside a room. A nasty room. Mom would have a fit if she saw this place.

He blinked a few times to clear his vision. There were jars lining a shelf on the other side of the room, underneath kill shots and a collection of bloody butcher knives. After squinting at the jars for a few minutes he decided that he didn't want to know what was in them.

A man near Dean's age bounded into the room. He saw Dean and grinned, exposing his yellow, black and missing teeth. Dean couldn't help cringing away. Man, these sick bastards must not have a mother around.

"Pa!" the guy yelled. "He's awake!"

Dean tried to focus on the people coming into the room. Footsteps pounded in, heavy hunting boots against ancient wood floors. They smelled like bathing was not a top concern. Their clothes were dirty. A little girl in a tattered dress and wild messy hair hung by the doorway.

"Missy!" the older man, Pa, snapped at her. "You ain't old enough for this. Go on upstairs."

She made a nasty face before obeying her father.

Old enough for what? Dean had a real bad feeling. Then Pa explained how his family hunted people, live humans. And here he was tied to a chair while his brothers were...

"Where are they?" Dean interrupted Pa's description of how powerful killing people made him feel. "Where are the two guys I came here with?"

"Now, we want to talk to you about them." Pa drew out a hunting knife and ran the tip lightly against Dean's cheek. "See, my boys here like a good hunt. Now, we give 'em opportunity and even a weapon. So it's fair. They got a chance."

There was no air in this room. Breathing was impossible. It started to spin slowly in one direction and Dean fought to keep his focus on Pa. Pa knew where Sam and Mikey were.

"So you..." Pa smiled, revealing more of the family blackened and missing teeth. "You gets to pick who me and my boys hunt next. The tall guy? The big one? Or that bitch cop?"

Dean swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat. It was an impossible decision. He shook his head, refusing to open his mouth. Sick bastards. Talk about people who needed therapy.

They tried roughing him up a little, but still Dean wouldn't speak. What choice? There was no choice there!

Next Pa stirred the fire with a poker. Then he pulled out the poker, revealing the glowing point. He held it next to Dean's eye, close enough for him to feel the heat off of it. Dean swallowed hard.

"I believe I asked you to choose," Pa snapped, like he was reprimanding one of his psycho kids.

Dean might have shaken his head again, he wasn't sure, all of his focus was on that glowing poker next to his eye.

"I told ya, we'll give 'em a weapon. That way they'll have a fighting chance. Locked up in them cages, they got no chance." Pa snorted when Dean still wouldn't answer. He lowered the poker and for a second, a split second, Dean thought he was off the hook. Then the glowing hot tip plunged into his shoulder and hot, searing pain tore through him. Screams filled the room. Then the poker was gone.

"Let's try this again." Pa stirred the fire. He turned around with a red hot poker. Didn't they already do this? He held it next to Dean's eye. "Which one do we hunt first?"

"Th-the cop," he stammered quickly. It felt like a betrayal but it couldn't be helped. Kathleen was a trained cop, she should be able to handle herself. At any rate, she'd have a better chance than his little brothers who had no training.

"Now that's more like it." Pa tossed the poker back into the fire. He turned back around to look at his boys. "Go shoot 'em all. In the cage."

"But Pa..." one of the boys protested.

"Don't make me say it again, Lee!" Pa snapped.

"Y-you said you'd hunt them," Dean protested. "Give them a chance."

Pa gave him another one of those greasy smiles. "I lied."

Lied. Pa lied. Shoot 'em all.

The front door slammed, one of the boys heading out to the barn. He didn't have much time. It was just Pa and the other son now. Two to one would be good odds if Dean weren't tied up. He pulled desperately against the ropes holding him.

"This one'd be fun to hunt, Pa," the other boy said.

Pa glared back. "Boy, I done hunted for years and never brought the law back here. You lead that bitch cop right to us and think you should get another hunt outta it?"

The son's head dropped and shook from side to side. Now that's some punishment. No son, you have to just kill these people, no hunting, because you were a bad boy. Dean rocked his chair to the side while Pa went off on one of his psycho kids. It was a wood chair. With the right distraction, he might be able to break it and -

The sharp crack of a gunshot rang out. Dean froze, listening intently. Maybe he didn't really hear that. Then it happened again.

Pa chuckled. "So much for your friends."

All of his emotions, all of the fear and worry and dread, drained away leaving him empty and cold. Dean lifted his head to lock gazes with his captors. They stared curiously at him, Pa still with that chilling smile.

They didn't lash his legs to the chair. Dean rocked forward to stand on his feet. With a primal scream, he rushed backwards until he crashed against something solid. The chair he was bound to broke and Dean shook the ropes and what was left of the chair away.

"Looks like you get to have some fun after all, Jared," Pa chuckled.

The son, nearly as tall as Sam, grinned as he moved to come after Dean. Dean locked on to his opponent. These bastards took his brothers. They were going to pay.

Sam twisted the key in the control box and opened all of the cages.

"That was a nice move," Mikey told him, stepping out. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Are you kidding?" Sam demanded. Where else would he have learned that move than from Dean?

"Speaking of..." Mikey stretched and eyed the far door. "Maybe they took him to the house?"

"Let's go."

"Excuse me," snapped the lady sheriff as she moved to stand in their way, "this is my job."

They had been able to talk while waiting for Mikey and Dean to rescue them. Sam knew about her missing brother. "And this is my brother," Sam replied in a gentle voice. "You can't stop us. Either help or get out of the way."

She chewed her lower lip for a moment before nodding reluctantly. Mikey helped him stuff the sick bastard trying to kill them in a cage. Sam carried the rifle with him, following Mikey out. His little brother had actually seen the outside, so he was the better choice to be in the lead. Mikey took them through the woods around to the backside of the house. They entered through the back door which stood open, a screen door hanging by only one hinge their only obstacle.

Sam looked to Mikey but he shrugged. Great. Never been in the house. Sam pressed a finger against his lips to listen. A hollow thud came from below their feet.

"Basement," Kathleen whispered.

They rounded a wall to come face to face with a young girl who looked like something out of a horror movie.

"Go," Kathleen ordered in a hard voice. "I got this one." Cuffs appeared in her hand.

Sam and Mikey edged around the combative girls heading for the basement stairs. When their feet hit the stairs, Sam could hear the sounds of a big fight below. Crap! He hurried down hoping Dean hadn't been hurt too badly yet. When Sam burst into the basement, he saw Dean with the brother of the guy locked in the barn. Dean had the cold dispassionate look that always scared the crap out of Sam. It meant his big brother was currently operating either on no emotions or only anger. Either way, the outcome of this fight wouldn't be pretty.

Since there were only two downstairs, Sam waved Mikey back up. Mikey had a thing about basements anyway. With a look of relief, Mikey headed upstairs.

"Come on, boy!" Pa yelled from the side of the room, brandishing a fireplace poker. Then he saw Sam watching from the stairs. With a nasty glare, Pa raised the poker with the clear intent of braining Dean. Oh, Sam didn't think so. He rushed at the older man, employing one of Mikey's football moves to catch Pa in the abdomen with his shoulder. Sam slammed the bastard up against the wall. Repeatedly. Finally he heard the poker clatter to the floor and a gasp from the psycho on his shoulder.

With a step back and a toss of his shoulder, Sam threw Pa against the wall. He grabbed a heavy bar hanging on the wall to crash against the bastard's head. Pa slumped down, unconscious. Dean had one of the sons down on the floor and was mercilessly beating the crap out of him.

"Dean!" Sam rushed forward to pull his brother off.

Dean's head snapped around. His eyes widened for a split second. "Sam?"

"Hey big brother," Sam replied in a rush. "Are you all right?"

Dean shook him off and eyed him warily before nodding. "What about the others?"

"We have one locked up in the barn and the sheriff, Kathleen, has the girl upstairs." Sam motioned to him. "Let's go make sure she calls this in. I have a feeling she'll need backup."

Dean nodded and motioned for Sam to go first. Sam led the way upstairs where Mikey kept watch at the front door and Kathleen stood outside the hall closet.

"Dean!" Kathleen called out, rushing forward. "Are you all right? What happened?"

Dean's brow creased and his eyes darted around, kind of like he wasn't sure exactly what was going on. It wasn't exactly an unusual reaction after he went cold and merciless like he had down in the basement. He should snap out of it soon. "How'd you escape?"

Kathleen turned a brilliant smile on Sam. "I had a little help."

"We better find your car so you can call this in," Dean told her. "I'm pretty sure I saw where they stashed it."

"We'll wait here and keep an eye on things," Sam offered as Mikey nodded in agreement. Dean stopped to check each of them for injuries before following Kathleen out. Now that was his big brother!

After Dean and Kathleen's footsteps had faded with distance from the house, Mikey eyed the basement stairs critically. "There are two down there, right? Must be some rope around here."

Sam agreed. "I'll keep watch while you look." He made a face at a jar full of teeth. "Try not to touch anything."

"Sure, mom," Mikey snarked. His kid brother rummaged around the room and found some spools of metal wire, the kind for repairing fences. He waited on the main floor for Sam to tie the guys up. "Did you notice that Dean seemed kind of strange?" he called down.

"When isn't he?" Sam asked as he mounted the stairs.

Mikey gave him a nasty look. "How about the way he's holding his shoulder? The last time I saw him walk that stiff, he had dislocated it during a belt test."

Sam chewed his lower lip worriedly. "Crap. Okay, we'll check it out when they come back."

Dean mounted the steps to the house with great trepidation. He had tried to talk Kathleen into waiting for the other cops outside but she was adamant about keeping an eye on the rest of the psycho killing family. Mikey stood just inside the front door and Dean didn't like the worry he saw in those blue eyes.

"What'd you do with the girl?" Dean asked when he realized he hadn't seen any sign of her.

Kathleen gave him a cold smile and pointed to the entry closet where a chair was propped under the doorknob. A thumping noise came from behind the door.

"We'd better check on the other two," she said, heading for the basement.

Dean followed slowly, unsure what he would see down there. He had heard the gunshots from the barn. Pa Bender had told his sons to shoot everyone in the cages. A massive sense of relief washed over him at the sight of Sam standing guard over Pa and one of the 'boys'.

"Nearly every cop in the state will be here by dark," she announced, bending down to check on Pa. He stirred and she scowled.

"Good. Will someone be able to drive us to our motel?" Sam asked.

Dean waited nervously to see how Kathleen would answer. He and Mikey had promised to stay by the car, a bold-faced lie. "Sure. No problem. We'll need your statement first, of course."

His shoulder throbbed and the air in here was still and stale. He felt a little dizzy too.

"I need some air," Dean announced before turning on his heel and making tracks out of that nasty house. There might have been a voice calling him, he wasn't sure, but Dean ignored it in his trek to the outdoors. Pure curiosity drew him to the barn. He wanted to see where they had kept Sam.

Two lines of cages, like heavy-duty dog kennels, lined the center of the barn. It stank of urine, feces and sweat. Swallowing down the bile rising in his throat, Dean approached the cages slowly. In one, right in the center, was a large lump. It was the size of Sam or Mikey. Dean backed away a few steps. How easy would it have been for it to be one of his brothers? He glanced around. How the hell did they escape, anyway?

"Dean!" Sam's voice penetrated the darkness. The ever-present worry in Sam's voice was a comfort. "Come on, they need our statements."

His feet felt rooted to the floor, unwilling to move even as his throat closed up. Those sick, psycho bastards had actually kept his brothers in cages like wild animals.

"Dude, are you coming or what?" Sam demanded from the door. "Ah, crap. I forgot to tell them about this one. I'll bring the cops back here while you're giving a statement. Let's go!"

Dean moved automatically at that tone in Sam's voice, even though his brain was refusing to engage. He followed his tall younger brother out of the barn and right up to several state cops.

"Hey, this is my brother," Sam announced. "And there's another one of them locked up in the barn."

Dean waited nervously as a man in a brown uniform with a thin face walked up to him. "Dean, right?" he asked. Dean nodded and swallowed hard. "This'll just take a minute for the preliminary report. The sheriff asked us to take you back to your motel and you can make a full statement tomorrow."

With the adrenaline high gone, exhaustion rushed over Dean. His shoulders sagged and pain lanced through his shoulder.

"Sir, are you all right?" The state cop grabbed his other arm, and it was the only reason Dean didn't go down face first into the dirt.

"Is the ambulance here?" a male voice roared. Oh, crap. They found him out. Oh, God, he hurt. Dean clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes closed as people tried to peel off the fabric burned into his skin.

"Sam!" Mikey shouted when he noticed paramedics loading Dean on a gurney. He ran in the direction of the ambulance and his oldest brother.

Mikey had eyes only for his brother, pretty much ignoring Sam's calm questions for the paramedics. Dean's left shoulder had a huge blackened spot with pieces of his shirt stuck to it. Oh, man, melted to his skin? Bile rose in Mikey's throat at the sight. What in the hell did those sick bastards do? He could feel his temper rising.

"What happened?" he demanded as the paramedics strapped Dean down on the gurney.

"Sir, you're in the way," one of the paramedics insisted and attempted to push him out of the way. Yeah, like that could happen.

"Dean!" Mikey shouted. But instead of a cocky smile or a wave of his hand 'no big deal, Mikey', Dean grimaced and rolled his head away. Mikey's heart thundered in his chest. This was wrong, it was all so wrong.

"We're going," Sam's voice came from behind his back. "He's our brother."

Mikey clambered into the back of the ambulance after Dean. His nerves were jittering all over the place, even after Sam sat next to him. It wasn't until Sam pressed a huge hand on his thigh that Mikey realized he had been bouncing his knee. With a reassuring pat, Sam took his hand away.

"Dean?" Mikey tried again. His oldest brother still wouldn't look at him, his skin pale and sweaty and jaw clenched. He turned inquiring eyes on his other brother wanting to know what they were going to do.

"It's the pain," Sam said calmly. Mikey glared at Sam. Duh! "I'm sure they'll give him something for it." Sam glared at one of the paramedics. "Right?"

The man shrugged sympathetically. "I'm afraid he'll have to wait until they can check him out in the ER. I wouldn't want to give him anything that would hinder treatment."

Mikey sighed heavily before grasping Dean's hand. At least he could do this much.

At the hospital they allowed him and Sam to remain in the emergency treatment room while they evaluated Dean's burn wound. Apparently it was pretty bad. It was decided he would need skin grafts. Five hours later Mikey and Sam sat beside Dean's bed in the ICU.

A greasy smile full of holes, and nasty yellow and black teeth where there weren't holes, filled his vision. Pa Bender's laugh echoed in his ears.

"Shoot 'em. Shoot 'em in the cage."

The sounds of a rifle going off. Twice. Pa Bender laughed again.

"They's dead now. You're all alone." Hot breath which stank of rotten meat wafted in his face. Dean tried to turn away, but every direction he turned held another nasty face. They all laughed at him, their taunting voices surrounding him.

"Alone."

"They're gone."

"You're all alone."

"Gone."

He couldn't move, tied down to the chair. Dean wrestled against the ropes binding him, desperate to be free. Desperate to kill these psychos.

Sam watched Dean toss and turn in his sleep. He knew his older brother had been pumped full of pain meds and sleep aids, so it was disconcerting to see how those were not working. He called for the nurse. After twenty minutes of watching Dean continue to toss and turn fitfully, Sam called for the nurse again.

Finally a woman with a pinched, pissed-off expression stalked into Dean's room. "Yes?" she asked in a snippy voice. "Is there a problem?"

Mikey glowered at her while Sam motioned to their brother. "Something's wrong. I think he's in pain."

She huffed loudly and one hand lifted to rest on her hip. "He's not in pain."

"Look at him," Sam protested. "What would you call it?"

The nurse crossed her arms over her chest to watch Dean's fitful sleep for a few moments. "He can't be in pain, he's on too much medication." She turned on her heel and left in a huff.

"Oh, that does it," Mikey snapped, following the snippy nurse out.

Sam groaned to himself and slumped down in his chair. "Dude," he said softly to Dean, "you know I can't handle Mikey when he's like this. What am I supposed to do?"

Bitch nurse, Mikey thought vehemently as he stared at Dean. His big brother was still moving around, his head twisting from side to side, at times violently. Every so often a low moan, like he was in severe pain, would escape his dry lips. A few times his eyes opened and Mikey hoped it was a good sign, that Dean was awake, but then his eyes would close and he would return to the fitful sleep.

According to Sam they were on thin ice with this shift of nurses, but Mikey wasn't going to leave before the shift change. There was NO way he would leave Dean in that bitch's care without supervision. Just no freaking way.

A doctor blew into the room to check on Dean's wound. Mikey stood to watch, but the doctor wanted them out into the hall. Dean's eyes opened briefly and he seemed to look right through them before falling asleep again. Damn. After assuring them it was a shift change, the doctor had Sam drag him out of there to eat, but all Mikey could do was pick at the stale sandwich Sam bought for him.

"C'mon, squirt. Eat," Sam encouraged.

Mikey sighed heavily and shook his head. "Don't call me that."

Sam's eyes rolled. "You don't mind when Dean does it."

Mikey shoved his barely eaten food away. "He's the only one who calls me that." He wrapped his arms over his chest. "Why won't he look at us, Sam?"

"Drugs?" Sam shrugged and stuffed the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth. Sam stood, one cheek bulging, and motioned for Mikey to move it. Finally. Mikey popped up to return to Dean's room.

"Relax, Mikey," Sam chided in the hall outside Dean's room. "All we need to do is wait for the drugs to wear off. He'll come around."

Mikey glared at his far too calm brother who shrugged him off. "You know how he hates hospitals. You'll feel better after he really wakes up and can talk to us. You'll see."

Humph. He'd better. Then the bitch nurse came back and kicked them out for the night, even threatening to call hospital security if they didn't leave.

"Alone. All alone." Pa Bender's deep chilling laugh tore through him, ripping a hole through his shoulder.

Dean staggered back. Dark trees surrounded him. Beady killer eyes peered out of the darkness from behind every leaf. He swallowed hard wondering what had become of his brothers when a shot rang out.

"That's one." Pa Bender laughed again, waggling a finger in the air. A second shot ricocheted off the trees. "And that's two."

No. It couldn't be. Weren't they just here? Where'd they go? Mikey? Sam!

"Dean!" A sharp slap to his face forced his eyes to open.

The lady cop, Kathleen, stood over him. Dean blinked hard and looked around. He was in a white room, in a bed with faded white sheets. And his shoulder hurt like a bitch. "Where?" His mouth was dry and his head buzzed.

"You're in the hospital," Kathleen said gently. "Don't you remember the ambulance?"

Dean shook his head and the world swam around him. Stupid drugs. He tried to blink the room back into focus. "What are you doing here?"

She pulled a chair next to his bed. One chair. Damn. "I brought your car. It was still at the bar." Kathleen shrugged. "I figured you didn't have anyone to drive it over."

Oh, maaaaan. Those dreams. That was what really happened. No wonder Sam hadn't woken him up, it had been real.

"Thanks," he said softly.

She cleared her throat, like what she needed to say would be difficult. "I found my brother's car. It was on the back of their property. Along with at least forty others dating back years. Decades." The woman officer shook her head sadly. "Guess my brother never stood a chance."

"Yeah." Dean swallowed hard. A heaviness set into his chest. Gone.

"If it hadn't been for you and... Well, if it hadn't been for you, I doubt we would have found them." Kathleen gave him a sad smile and she hadn't mentioned Sam or Mikey. "Thanks."

This was how people acted when someone close to you died. Taken. Gone. Alone.

Dean closed his eyes against the tears forming. Kathleen may have said a couple more things, but all he made out was "goodnight" when she left. Crap. His life was utter crap.

Mikey rushed in the direction of Dean' room, anxious to check that the bitch nurse from last night was long gone.

"Is someone in there?" Sam asked as they approached. There were voices from directly ahead.

Mikey hurried with his brother hoping to catch a doctor checking up on Dean. There was a short man in a white doctor's coat standing beside Dean's bed. Dean's eyes were open, clear and he sounded coherent. Finally!

"...but I figured it was just the meds," Dean said as they walked in. His gaze snapped to them and a grimace flickered across his face. "Crap."

"How's he doing, doc?" Sam demanded. When it came to Dean, Sam often acted like he owned their older brother. "When can we bust Dean out of here?"

"He's been pretty out of it," Mikey put in.

"So when do I get out?" Dean asked before the doctor could answer, averting his gaze from them to the doc. "Because I'm ready now."

The doctor frowned at him and whipped out a pen to make a note in Dean's chart. "Uh, that wouldn't be a great idea. I'd like to keep you here until we know the skin grafts have taken and there are no signs of infection."

Dean's gazed flickered over them briefly then landed hard on the doctor. "I'll sign an AMA. Really. Now."

The doctor's lips pursed and he shook his head. "Why don't you think about it for a few minutes? I'll be back." He paused beside Sam to whisper, "Bad idea."

Sam nodded that he understood and gave Mikey the 'time to convince Dean' look. Joy.

Sam cleared his throat and moved to stand beside Dean's bed. "You really should stay."

Dean rolled his eyes and mumbled, "Too late."

Mikey shot a confused glance at Sam, but his brother looked just as confused as he felt.

"Dean," Mikey tried, "why would you want to leave now? You don't want us to pull out the big guns, do you?" he asked, meaning he would call Mom and tell, of course.

Dean mumbled something under his breath as he peered out the open hospital room door. "Look," he said softly, still not looking either of them in the eye, "just be quiet, all right?"

"Dean?" Sam whispered, moving closer. "Are you all right? I mean, other than the shoulder?"

Dean used his upper teeth to worry his lower lip before nodding slowly. Then he looked each of them right in the eye.

"Yes," he said firmly. "Stupid drugs are messing with my head. So, uh, how'd you get away from the psycho son Pa sent to kill you?"

Mikey grinned. "Sam was awesome. You would've been so proud of him, Dean."

"Yeah?" A grin slid on to Dean's face. "So tell me, Sammy."

Mikey watched Dean carefully as Sam explained their escape. He still seemed a little off, kind of out of it, but it could be the pain meds. Sam was probably right about that.

The bitch nurse walked in to check Dean's bandages. Now what the hell was she doing here? Was she back on duty already? She ignored him and Sam, even though Sam was still talking. Man, rude much?

"This will just take a minute," she said in a stern tone, "and then I'll be out of your way. How's the pain, Dean?"

"Not bad," Dean replied with a shrug of his good shoulder. Even though he was clearly lying, Dean didn't glance their way once to see if he or Sam would give him up.

Mikey pulled Sam aside while the nurse replaced the bandages. "Does he seem a little strange to you?"

"Define strange," Sam muttered.

Mikey glared at his brother and motioned at Dean. Sam shrugged. "You know how he hates hospitals. He'll be fine when we get him out of here. They're supposed to release him in the morning. You'll see."

Yeah. He'd better.

How could he be alone, Dean wondered, staring up at the ceiling. It had seemed so real, Sam and Mikey walking around, talking, teasing him. But they were gone. At best? Hallucinations. At worst? Well, hopefully he was just crazy.

As if they knew he had been thinking about them, Sam and Mikey's banter came from the hall. Dean rubbed his eyes, hoping there was no sign of tears. Of course Sam and Mikey wouldn't be able to tell anyone, but it might alert the hospital staff that there was something else wrong and give them an excuse to keep him longer. This time he would make sure it was just a hallucination. If not, then it was much, much worse.

Dean dressed himself despite Sam's and Mikey's offers to help. He even insisted on carrying all of his stuff. The morning nurse who had been so kind to him gave him a slip of paper with her number on it 'in case' he needed help with his dressings later. Sam had been grinning the whole time, making hand signals behind her back that should have been flat-out embarrassing. Well, they would have been if Sam had actually been stand-

Distracting himself from that line of thought, Dean focused on Mikey's story about how the Benders jumped them in the woods. He took the Impala keys from his pocket as they walked out the front doors, then stopped suddenly.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Sam asked, hovering near his right shoulder.

"My car," he muttered, "it's still at the bar."

"No, it's right there." Sam pointed across the parking lot, his brow furrowed. "Hey, who drove that over?"

Oh, right. It looked like he hadn't dreamed that part. "Kathleen," he muttered to himself.

"The cop? Well, that was nice of her," Sam commented. "We'll have to thank her for that before we leave town."

"Want me to drive?" Mikey asked, hurrying to walk backwards in front of him.

"Nah." Dean shook his head at the offer. "I got it." He wasn't in the right mood to sit there and hear the excuses why the car wouldn't start and have to go check the motor before finally sitting behind the wheel and declaring that the Impala just missed him.

"I don't think you should be driving," Sam admonished.

Dean considered that as he unlocked the car and held open the passenger door. "How about if we just go straight to a motel? I'm not in a hurry to be anyplace. We can hang out for a few days."

Sam looked pleased by the suggestion. "I wanted to ask that, but I was afraid you'd take it the wrong way."

Dean grinned back. "What? And miss spending a some quality time with my little brothers?" He closed the passenger door. A quick glance around the parking lot assured him that no one had witnessed him talking to the images of his brothers. Relieved, Dean headed for the driver's side.

Mikey and Sam chatted on in upbeat voices the whole way to a motel. They even followed Dean inside to book a room. The clerk didn't bat an eye when Dean asked for a room for three, just took his credit card and pushed over a room key. The weight of his duffel on his good shoulder was heavy.

"You're just tired," Sam assured him. "Your body has a lot to recover from, you need to take it easy for a while."

Dean nodded and dropped his duffel at the foot of the first bed. He sat heavily on the bed, wondering how long he would continue to see his brothers and at the same time hoping they wouldn't leave. Clearly they weren't figments of his imagination, they were spirits who weren't crossing over. Would he be so selfish to keep them here just for him, or should he encourage them to move on?

"Can I check your bandages?" Sam asked, kneeling in front of him.

They didn't know. Crap. Dean scrubbed a tired hand over his face. He couldn't be selfish, not about this. If they didn't cross over, who knew what could become of their spirits?

"You can't," Dean told his younger brother gently.

Confusion flickered across Sam's face. Then a smile settled. "Oh. You're going to call the nurse, huh? Well go on. I wouldn't mind seeing you with a steady girlfriend. I hope she doesn't mind long-distance romances."

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's not about some girl," he protested. "It's about...you. And Mikey." Be firm, he told himself, this needed to be done.

Mikey moved to stand right behind Sam and leaned over, resting a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Is this about why you've been acting so strange since you were admitted in the hospital?"

"You noticed?" Dean asked. His younger brothers shared a look. Well, of course they noticed. Duh. "Yeah, it is." He sighed, not wanting to do this. Having them around in spirit form was better than being all alone. No. No, it wasn't, not at their expense. They needed to cross over.

Dean looked Sam in the eye. "Sammy, you couldn't have overpowered that dude who came to kill you. His father told him to shoot you in the cage. How could you overpower the guy from inside one of those cages?" He sighed heavily. "I saw your body, Sam."

"Dean?" Sam reached out with a hand and Dean jerked back. Even though he knew the truth, watching Sam's hand pass through him was not the last thing about his brother he wanted to remember.

"I thought he was avoiding physical contact," Mikey stated sternly. "Well, now I know why." He slapped Sam in the side of the head. "Dude, he thinks we're dead."

Sam made a nasty face then, like when Mikey used to play with the red crash car. "Dean. We're not dead."

"Sam," Dean said gently, wanting to make this as easy as possible on them, "I heard the shots."

"We told you what happened," Sam snapped. "I thought you believed us?"

Dean rolled his eyes and took out the slip of paper with the nurse's number on it. "Then why couldn't she see you?"

Sam and Mikey exchange exasperated sighs. "Because she's a world-class bitch, Dean," Mikey snapped. "She was ignoring us. I kind of went off on her. A couple of times."

They still weren't understanding. "Dude, how you can you cross over if you won't accept it?"

"Cross over." Sam groaned. He jerked his head at Mikey, who walked around to the other side of Dean's bed. "Now."

As a unit, both of them fell on Dean. Dean expected them to pass right through him, but instead solidly muscled arms pinned him to the bed. Sam held his legs while Mikey had a hold on his arms.

"Do we feel like ghosts, Dean?" Sam demanded harshly, putting most of his weight on Dean's legs until they hurt. Dean shook his head and they sat on the edge of his bed, one on each side, both glaring at him. "You really thought we were ghosts?"

His mind was in a whirl. "At first I figured you were hallucinations," he admitted, "but when the drugs wore off and you were still around..." He shrugged.

Mikey laid a heavy hand on his good shoulder. "Dude, I should tell Mom on you."

He was tied to a chair, Pa Bender holding a glowing fire poker next to his eye. "Which one do we hunt first?"

The sound of a rifle discharging, shooting Sam and Mikey in their cages, ricocheted throughout the nasty house.

"Dean!" Sam's voice came out of Pa Bender's mouth. "Dean! Wake up!"

Breathing heavily, Dean blinked his eyes several times. The nasty room faded away into beige walls and Pa Bender melted into Sam's worried face.

"Dude," Dean breathed out. He reached out with both hands to grab Sam by the shoulders and pull him in, pressing that messy mop against his chest and holding tight. "Gone," he whispered heavily, "thought you were gone."

"Dean?" Mikey's voice came from the far side of the room.

"Help!" Sam cried out, his voice muffled by Dean's body.

Mikey lumbered closer, eyes wide. "Dean?" he asked in a cautious voice. "What happened?"

Dean shifted Sam's head over a little and used his bad arm, well the arm was fine but the shoulder wasn't, to draw Mikey in as well.

"Ah, Sam?" Mikey said in a strangled voice. "We ought to rethink the sleeping arrangements."

"No shit," Sam's muffled voice vibrated against Dean's ribs.

A few minutes later, after much cajoling to release them, his little brothers had the beds pushed together. Sam motioned for Dean to sleep in the middle.

"Unless you want me and Mikey fighting all night?"

"Ah, no." Dean crawled carefully to the center of the large bed, resting just to one side of the split in the center. Now that the terror of his dream had faded, his shoulder began to throb. Sam gave him a hard, evaluating look.

"Does it hurt?" Sam demanded.

Dean started to lie about it, but pain shot hard enough through his shoulder at that moment to make him wince.

"That's a yes," Sam said with a sigh. He rummaged in Dean's things until he found the pill bottle with the pain-killers. He poured out one and brought it to Dean along with a glass of water. "Take it and don't argue. You might even sleep better."

Dean didn't respond other than to swallow the pill. Mikey crawled into bed on the wider side, the big kid sprawling all across his full half. "Dean, when we were kids you used to do that, too. What'd you dream about back then?"

"What? What dreams?" Dean asked, alarmed. What dreams when he was a kid? What did Mikey know?

Sam shook his head as he settled on Dean's other side. "He's talking about your nightmares. Afterwards you'd grab us, like you did earlier, and keep whispering 'gone'. We never could figure out what it was about."

Mikey rolled on his side to face Dean. "Well?" he demanded. "What was it about? Did you used to dream that Sam and I disappeared?"

"No," Sam snapped from the other side. "He didn't!"

Mikey lifted up to glare at Sam. "Sam? Shut up. I didn't ask you."

"But he didn't," Sam insisted. "Did you, Dean?"

Now both pairs of eyes weighed heavily on him. Dean lifted his right hand to hold his left shoulder. "Man, this really hurts," he said, trying to change the subject. "You don't think an infection might be setting in, do you?" He lifted an edge of the bandage, trying to peer underneath.

One of Sam's big paws grasped his forearm. "Dean?" His voice was softer this time, warm and worried. "What were those nightmares?"

Ah, crap. He hadn't admitted to any of this since he drew that stupid picture when he was a little dumb kid.

"Fire," he admitted. "You and Mikey always disappeared in this huge house fire."

"Sam owes me a million dollars," Mikey declared triumphantly.

Sam snorted. "Try and collect, twerp."

"Dean?" Mikey asked in a voice that was too small for his size. "Can we pretend it's thundering?"

Dean squirmed around until the sheets underneath him weren't wrinkled and the pillow felt right under his head. He held out his good arm. "Come here, squirt."

The huge smile of relief on Mikey's face was humbling. The big guy flopped down, his head on Dean's good shoulder and a meaty arm over his chest. Dean turned to roll his eyes at Sam, but his other little brother looked a little green. Green as in jealous, not sick. Ah, crap.

"Sammy? I don't suppose you have a shoulder I could borrow? My other one is kind of out of commission," Dean explained.

Sam's eyes lit up. Dean and Mikey squirmed around some more until Sam's shoulder was under Dean's head. Actually, this was more like it, although Dean would never admit it out loud. Physically this was way too uncomfortable to sleep like this every night, but emotionally? Dean figured by their reactions his little brothers needed this as much as he did. Sam used his free arm to turn out the light. After his brothers' breathing settled into steady, even rhythms, Dean reached up intending to give Mikey's arm a reassuring squeeze. He found a comforting hand already there.

The three musketeers had nothing on them.