One Night (Supernatural) 5/5 M Dean COMPLETE
Posted: Wed Apr 11, 2007 12:07 pm
Author: DMartinez
Email: shockerdm@icqmail.com
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kripke and the WB, CW. Some phrases are references to “McClintock!” and “A Fistful of Dollars,” I don’t own those either. No infringement intended.
Rating: Mature (Vulgar Language)
Category: Supernatural
Summary: Dean gets arrested after an accident and then given the shock of a lifetime.
One Night
“It’s a left.” Sam repeated and pointed.
“It’s a right. I’m going right.” Dean steered them the way that he felt was the right way. “See, look. Motel.”
“That’s not our motel.” Sam pointed out the name on the building.
“We pull in and wait for the heat to dissipate.” He muttered and just as he was about to pull in, the sirens swung around the corner. “Or maybe not.”
“We are not going on a car chase, Dean!” The taller brother had to grasp onto the seat and door to stay upright in the passenger seat.
“We’re just going to lose them and then we’ll double back to the hotel. No big.” Counting to five, Dean spun the wheel on a random quest to lose the cop cars. “I didn’t know there would be security in the cemetery.”
“Maybe they heard you were coming.”
“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
“Would you just drive and not get us killed?”
“I would be doing a better job if some punk would shut his cake hole!” Dean yanked on the wheel and the car skidded onto a side street. Quickly, Dean pulled into a covered garage and cut the lights. “Now, when they go speeding past, we’ll sneak back around. It’ll be cool.”
“Whatever. You had better hope they didn’t get a make on the car.”
They fell silent as the sirens lit up the street and then sped past. Dean waited five minutes before throwing the car into gear and speeding in reverse. “What did I tell you?” He jerked the gearshift into drive. “Nothin’ to –“
Pain ignited throughout his skull. Glass covered everything. Shards of pain shot up his leg. His mouth tasted like blood. The ringing was so loud. Sammy. Sammy. “Sammy?”
“Dean?” His vision blurred. Red and blue lights flashed. The hiss of a large engine sounded like it was inside his ear. When tears cleared his vision, Sam could see that Dean’s side of the car was not as far away as it used to be.
“Is my head still on my shoulders?”
“Barely.”
“Okay.” Dean still had his eyes closed. “Don’t let me open my eyes until we’re clear of the car.”
“We have bigger problems.”
“Maybe but I’m in no condition to see my baby like this.”
“Your head is bleeding, your arm isn’t moving and you’re worried about looking at your smashed up car.”
“Sammy, get me out of the fucking car.”
--
When Dean came to, the light was blinding. He didn’t remember passing out. He didn’t remember getting to… the hospital, he assumed it was. “Fuck.”
Then he couldn’t lift his arms, prying his eyes open to look at his arm, he saw the blur of the IV, then the shadow of a cuff around his wrist, the cool metal biting slightly. “Fuck it all.”
“Mr. Winchester, you’re awake.” The detective set a chair at the end of the bed. “Forgive the cuffs but you’re a flight risk. You have a history of bolting from the scene, picking locks and absconding with city property.”
“I have the right to a lawyer.” Dean made himself comfortable; as if he was not chained to his bed and did not have pain shooting up his leg. “Is my leg in a cast?”
“It appears so.”
“Oh. Okay.” He nodded to himself. “But the lawyer and the doctor. Anytime now.”
“How about I read you the charges?”
“Oh, did we skip that formality?”
“You’re a charming, man, Mr. Winchester but I don’t think you can charm your way out of this one. We are officially charging you with grave desecration and reckless endangerment.” She took a seat and flipped open the file in her hands. “When we ran your prints, we found your name and a list of priors, as well as a request to hold for FBI. I plan to charge you before they get here.” She waited for a response but the guy looked mostly sleepy. The drugs were impairing his judgment. Hopefully enough to get him to slip up before the DA got there. “So, this is not your first grave desecration. Robbery, petty. Credit card fraud, aiding. Unlawful possession of a deadly weapon, several counts. Houdini’d yourself out of more than one jail cell. Dead beat dad charges in Texas. Nice one. DFS in more than one state has your name from years back, apparently. Reckless endangerment…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean cleared his throat and tried to sit up. “You’re just making shit up, now.”
“I’m just reading what I was sent with your prints.”
“Go back. What’s this dead beat dad business? I don’t have any kids.”
“That’s hardly here or there with the seriousness of the crimes you’ve committed in this state.”
“I won’t have false accusations brought against me. Who said I was a dead beat dad?” He demanded. His mind spun. Texas. Texas was a big state. There were lots of one-night stands in Texas. He couldn’t even narrow down a hair color, forget a city.
“There are also murder charges.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard all that before.” Dean sagged back onto the bed.
“You’re not concerned with any of the charges that could send you to jail? You’re worried about the one that revokes your driver’s license.”
“The murder charges are bogus.” Dean made a face at her. He mentally counted back all the runs through Texas. The arrests that hadn’t had that brought up. “How old is this dead beat dad charge?”
“Four years.”
“Huh.” Dean rubbed his nose on his shoulder. “Well, lawyer me up anyway. Don’t care what you throw at me. I need my own personal Matlock before I say anything about any other charges.”
“I think you should know that we have your brother in another room and he’s cooperating.”
“Right. He’ll need Matlock, too.”
--
Sam stretched so he could see across the room and detect anything small and metal that he could use to pick the lock on his handcuffs. The file on the door had a paperclip but he’d never get to it before the guard came back into the room. When he was 11, he could have closed the cuffs enough to make them open the other way again. Then he’d had that huge growth spurt and he’d had trouble with handcuffs ever since.
“Mr. Winchester.” The voice called in just as the door was opening. “I’m pleased to see that your record is nowhere as colorful as your brothers but we could still bring you up on accessory charges.”
“Where’s my lawyer?”
“Why don’t you cooperate with us?”
“How’s my brother doing?” Sam sat quietly. He didn’t want to provoke but he wasn’t going to let her control the conversation.
“He’s awake and cooperating.”
He didn’t mean to burst out laughing but the cop really didn’t know who she was dealing with. “Okay, I’ll play along. He said he wanted Matlock and then you gave up. Well… I’m telling you the same thing.”
--
Stupid leg. Dean stared down at the cast. He wasn’t in much pain anymore but he figured the IV had drugs. He could hobble but being seen would be an issue and who knew what kind of shape his car was in. The lawyer walked in but she looked like she was 14 years old. “Uh-uh. Try again.”
“Pardon me?” She set down her bags.
“Doogie Howser, J.D. Out. If I have to have one, I want a real lawyer.”
“I’m the court appointed—“
“Out.”
“Mr. Winchester…” It took her a moment to realize that one of his hands was waving around free. “I’ve posted your bail. An escape at this point would revoke that. I’m working hard to dig up an alibi but getting yourself hit by the fire truck while evading the law isn’t working for me.”
“So, I can go?”
“No, you have a broken leg… thus the reason your bail was allowed. Stay put.” She groaned and exited the room again.
Dean went to work on the second cuff. He could get out. He could… he would miss the pain medication but he would be free.
--
“Mr. Winchester.”
Sam barely nodded and tried to hide the fact that he’d been picking the lock on his cuffs.
“I’m Miriam Davis. I’m your lawyer. Give me that paperclip.” She held out her hand. Her tone was deadly. She looked like she had already been through the wringer.
“What?”
“Your brother is doing it, too… only he’s got his foot in plaster. I need you to tell him to cooperate. I figure you to be the more reasonable of the two, as your rap sheet isn’t nearly as long or colorful.”
“Pencil and paper please?” He handed over the paper clip. There was another one in the file he’d stolen it from. He wasn’t too worried about losing it.
--
Dean worked steadily on getting out of the bed and into the chair. If he could do that, he could work on getting out the door come nightfall. He was trying to look casual and adjust his barely-there hospital gown when the nurse came in with a frown. “Mr. Winchester, you are not supposed to be out of bed. Back you go.”
“I’m claustrophobic; couldn’t you take me for a walk?”
“No. You’re under police custody on this floor. I don’t believe someone as charming as you did all the things they claim but I still can’t let you go.”
“I’m starving. Please tell me the cafeteria food is good.”
“Back into bed.” She put him back into the bed and this time put restraint cuffs on him. “You have to stay there.”
“Only because you’re so sweet. Are you married?”
“Shame on you. Shameless, I’ll bet, is more accurate.” She eyed him warily. “I have a daughter your age… but I raised her to be smarter than to fall for one of you.”
“How’s that?”
“You’re a real heartbreaker and you know it.” She chided him then fluffed his pillow. “I don’t what exactly you boys did but it’s more excitement than this sleepy little town has had in a while.”
“I could make for more. Tell me where the nearest exit is.”
“Shameless.” She shook her head. “You didn’t fight me on the restraints. I do have a sedative in my pocket so, mind telling me why you didn’t fight me?”
Dean was tired and the set back was only going to keep him from jumping the gun and getting caught on his way out. “I can’t jump any hurdles. Won’t kill me to stay put a while.”
“Uh-huh.” She picked up his chart and marked off some of his vitals before going.
Just when he thought he’d have another chance, the door opened again. Doogie Matlock. She handed him a piece of paper. “From your brother.”
Taking it, he flipped it open and snorted. “Okay, whatever. So sit down and I’ll tell you what happened.”
--
Sam crept through the lot and spotted the cruiser on the near side. The cops were yawning and sipping coffee while an orderly regaled them with a tale or two. Smiling, he had an idea. Picking up several rocks, he rushed to the doctors’ parking lot. Tossing the rocks, he set off several of the alarms, the cops made a break for that side. That left Sam free to pick a lock on a car close to the doors. Something with an easy hotwire. By the time the cops returned, he was already back inside the hospital.
--
“So, you see, it was mistaken identity.”
“Why’d you pull into that driveway?”
“Look. Little Matlock, we were lost, I pulled in to turn around and he started yapping that we should ask for directions. The street was clear when I looked but I must have hesitated when I turned to yell at him and then hit the gas too hard in frustration. I should have looked again. It was an accident. So maybe I have a record, who doesn’t anymore?” He stared at her. “And some bitch brought up old DFS shit. She’s got no right. They were unfounded and once I hit 18, those things are closed.”
“It was actually a charge brought on you after you turned 18. Your brother broke three ribs? He was 15?”
“Oh yeah. I remember. Never mind.”
“Mr. Winchester…”
“Call me, Dean.”
“Mr. Winchester—" She sighed heavily but didn’t get to finish her sentence. The fire alarms went off.
“Come undo me.” Dean called over the noise. “I can’t run away. I’ve got a wheelchair over there.”
--
Sam pulled a hood over his head and slouched to keep from sticking out over the crowd exiting the hospital. He could see Dean and Lady Matlock heading for the exit. She kept her eyes on him at first and then became distracted by someone calling from the other side of the lot. Sam snuck up behind them and pulled Dean out of the fray. He kept his eyes peeled as he loaded him into the backseat of the car then covered him with a blanket. He hotwired the car and got it on the road while everyone was focused on the hospital ‘fire’.
He had to deposit Dean in a hotel room in another town and go back for the Impala. He knew that… but any minute… “Sam, where’d they tow my baby?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“What were you doing all this time?”
“Pulling off the perfect escape plan.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Shut up and lay down.”
TBC
Email: shockerdm@icqmail.com
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Kripke and the WB, CW. Some phrases are references to “McClintock!” and “A Fistful of Dollars,” I don’t own those either. No infringement intended.
Rating: Mature (Vulgar Language)
Category: Supernatural
Summary: Dean gets arrested after an accident and then given the shock of a lifetime.
One Night
“It’s a left.” Sam repeated and pointed.
“It’s a right. I’m going right.” Dean steered them the way that he felt was the right way. “See, look. Motel.”
“That’s not our motel.” Sam pointed out the name on the building.
“We pull in and wait for the heat to dissipate.” He muttered and just as he was about to pull in, the sirens swung around the corner. “Or maybe not.”
“We are not going on a car chase, Dean!” The taller brother had to grasp onto the seat and door to stay upright in the passenger seat.
“We’re just going to lose them and then we’ll double back to the hotel. No big.” Counting to five, Dean spun the wheel on a random quest to lose the cop cars. “I didn’t know there would be security in the cemetery.”
“Maybe they heard you were coming.”
“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
“Would you just drive and not get us killed?”
“I would be doing a better job if some punk would shut his cake hole!” Dean yanked on the wheel and the car skidded onto a side street. Quickly, Dean pulled into a covered garage and cut the lights. “Now, when they go speeding past, we’ll sneak back around. It’ll be cool.”
“Whatever. You had better hope they didn’t get a make on the car.”
They fell silent as the sirens lit up the street and then sped past. Dean waited five minutes before throwing the car into gear and speeding in reverse. “What did I tell you?” He jerked the gearshift into drive. “Nothin’ to –“
Pain ignited throughout his skull. Glass covered everything. Shards of pain shot up his leg. His mouth tasted like blood. The ringing was so loud. Sammy. Sammy. “Sammy?”
“Dean?” His vision blurred. Red and blue lights flashed. The hiss of a large engine sounded like it was inside his ear. When tears cleared his vision, Sam could see that Dean’s side of the car was not as far away as it used to be.
“Is my head still on my shoulders?”
“Barely.”
“Okay.” Dean still had his eyes closed. “Don’t let me open my eyes until we’re clear of the car.”
“We have bigger problems.”
“Maybe but I’m in no condition to see my baby like this.”
“Your head is bleeding, your arm isn’t moving and you’re worried about looking at your smashed up car.”
“Sammy, get me out of the fucking car.”
--
When Dean came to, the light was blinding. He didn’t remember passing out. He didn’t remember getting to… the hospital, he assumed it was. “Fuck.”
Then he couldn’t lift his arms, prying his eyes open to look at his arm, he saw the blur of the IV, then the shadow of a cuff around his wrist, the cool metal biting slightly. “Fuck it all.”
“Mr. Winchester, you’re awake.” The detective set a chair at the end of the bed. “Forgive the cuffs but you’re a flight risk. You have a history of bolting from the scene, picking locks and absconding with city property.”
“I have the right to a lawyer.” Dean made himself comfortable; as if he was not chained to his bed and did not have pain shooting up his leg. “Is my leg in a cast?”
“It appears so.”
“Oh. Okay.” He nodded to himself. “But the lawyer and the doctor. Anytime now.”
“How about I read you the charges?”
“Oh, did we skip that formality?”
“You’re a charming, man, Mr. Winchester but I don’t think you can charm your way out of this one. We are officially charging you with grave desecration and reckless endangerment.” She took a seat and flipped open the file in her hands. “When we ran your prints, we found your name and a list of priors, as well as a request to hold for FBI. I plan to charge you before they get here.” She waited for a response but the guy looked mostly sleepy. The drugs were impairing his judgment. Hopefully enough to get him to slip up before the DA got there. “So, this is not your first grave desecration. Robbery, petty. Credit card fraud, aiding. Unlawful possession of a deadly weapon, several counts. Houdini’d yourself out of more than one jail cell. Dead beat dad charges in Texas. Nice one. DFS in more than one state has your name from years back, apparently. Reckless endangerment…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean cleared his throat and tried to sit up. “You’re just making shit up, now.”
“I’m just reading what I was sent with your prints.”
“Go back. What’s this dead beat dad business? I don’t have any kids.”
“That’s hardly here or there with the seriousness of the crimes you’ve committed in this state.”
“I won’t have false accusations brought against me. Who said I was a dead beat dad?” He demanded. His mind spun. Texas. Texas was a big state. There were lots of one-night stands in Texas. He couldn’t even narrow down a hair color, forget a city.
“There are also murder charges.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard all that before.” Dean sagged back onto the bed.
“You’re not concerned with any of the charges that could send you to jail? You’re worried about the one that revokes your driver’s license.”
“The murder charges are bogus.” Dean made a face at her. He mentally counted back all the runs through Texas. The arrests that hadn’t had that brought up. “How old is this dead beat dad charge?”
“Four years.”
“Huh.” Dean rubbed his nose on his shoulder. “Well, lawyer me up anyway. Don’t care what you throw at me. I need my own personal Matlock before I say anything about any other charges.”
“I think you should know that we have your brother in another room and he’s cooperating.”
“Right. He’ll need Matlock, too.”
--
Sam stretched so he could see across the room and detect anything small and metal that he could use to pick the lock on his handcuffs. The file on the door had a paperclip but he’d never get to it before the guard came back into the room. When he was 11, he could have closed the cuffs enough to make them open the other way again. Then he’d had that huge growth spurt and he’d had trouble with handcuffs ever since.
“Mr. Winchester.” The voice called in just as the door was opening. “I’m pleased to see that your record is nowhere as colorful as your brothers but we could still bring you up on accessory charges.”
“Where’s my lawyer?”
“Why don’t you cooperate with us?”
“How’s my brother doing?” Sam sat quietly. He didn’t want to provoke but he wasn’t going to let her control the conversation.
“He’s awake and cooperating.”
He didn’t mean to burst out laughing but the cop really didn’t know who she was dealing with. “Okay, I’ll play along. He said he wanted Matlock and then you gave up. Well… I’m telling you the same thing.”
--
Stupid leg. Dean stared down at the cast. He wasn’t in much pain anymore but he figured the IV had drugs. He could hobble but being seen would be an issue and who knew what kind of shape his car was in. The lawyer walked in but she looked like she was 14 years old. “Uh-uh. Try again.”
“Pardon me?” She set down her bags.
“Doogie Howser, J.D. Out. If I have to have one, I want a real lawyer.”
“I’m the court appointed—“
“Out.”
“Mr. Winchester…” It took her a moment to realize that one of his hands was waving around free. “I’ve posted your bail. An escape at this point would revoke that. I’m working hard to dig up an alibi but getting yourself hit by the fire truck while evading the law isn’t working for me.”
“So, I can go?”
“No, you have a broken leg… thus the reason your bail was allowed. Stay put.” She groaned and exited the room again.
Dean went to work on the second cuff. He could get out. He could… he would miss the pain medication but he would be free.
--
“Mr. Winchester.”
Sam barely nodded and tried to hide the fact that he’d been picking the lock on his cuffs.
“I’m Miriam Davis. I’m your lawyer. Give me that paperclip.” She held out her hand. Her tone was deadly. She looked like she had already been through the wringer.
“What?”
“Your brother is doing it, too… only he’s got his foot in plaster. I need you to tell him to cooperate. I figure you to be the more reasonable of the two, as your rap sheet isn’t nearly as long or colorful.”
“Pencil and paper please?” He handed over the paper clip. There was another one in the file he’d stolen it from. He wasn’t too worried about losing it.
--
Dean worked steadily on getting out of the bed and into the chair. If he could do that, he could work on getting out the door come nightfall. He was trying to look casual and adjust his barely-there hospital gown when the nurse came in with a frown. “Mr. Winchester, you are not supposed to be out of bed. Back you go.”
“I’m claustrophobic; couldn’t you take me for a walk?”
“No. You’re under police custody on this floor. I don’t believe someone as charming as you did all the things they claim but I still can’t let you go.”
“I’m starving. Please tell me the cafeteria food is good.”
“Back into bed.” She put him back into the bed and this time put restraint cuffs on him. “You have to stay there.”
“Only because you’re so sweet. Are you married?”
“Shame on you. Shameless, I’ll bet, is more accurate.” She eyed him warily. “I have a daughter your age… but I raised her to be smarter than to fall for one of you.”
“How’s that?”
“You’re a real heartbreaker and you know it.” She chided him then fluffed his pillow. “I don’t what exactly you boys did but it’s more excitement than this sleepy little town has had in a while.”
“I could make for more. Tell me where the nearest exit is.”
“Shameless.” She shook her head. “You didn’t fight me on the restraints. I do have a sedative in my pocket so, mind telling me why you didn’t fight me?”
Dean was tired and the set back was only going to keep him from jumping the gun and getting caught on his way out. “I can’t jump any hurdles. Won’t kill me to stay put a while.”
“Uh-huh.” She picked up his chart and marked off some of his vitals before going.
Just when he thought he’d have another chance, the door opened again. Doogie Matlock. She handed him a piece of paper. “From your brother.”
Taking it, he flipped it open and snorted. “Okay, whatever. So sit down and I’ll tell you what happened.”
--
Sam crept through the lot and spotted the cruiser on the near side. The cops were yawning and sipping coffee while an orderly regaled them with a tale or two. Smiling, he had an idea. Picking up several rocks, he rushed to the doctors’ parking lot. Tossing the rocks, he set off several of the alarms, the cops made a break for that side. That left Sam free to pick a lock on a car close to the doors. Something with an easy hotwire. By the time the cops returned, he was already back inside the hospital.
--
“So, you see, it was mistaken identity.”
“Why’d you pull into that driveway?”
“Look. Little Matlock, we were lost, I pulled in to turn around and he started yapping that we should ask for directions. The street was clear when I looked but I must have hesitated when I turned to yell at him and then hit the gas too hard in frustration. I should have looked again. It was an accident. So maybe I have a record, who doesn’t anymore?” He stared at her. “And some bitch brought up old DFS shit. She’s got no right. They were unfounded and once I hit 18, those things are closed.”
“It was actually a charge brought on you after you turned 18. Your brother broke three ribs? He was 15?”
“Oh yeah. I remember. Never mind.”
“Mr. Winchester…”
“Call me, Dean.”
“Mr. Winchester—" She sighed heavily but didn’t get to finish her sentence. The fire alarms went off.
“Come undo me.” Dean called over the noise. “I can’t run away. I’ve got a wheelchair over there.”
--
Sam pulled a hood over his head and slouched to keep from sticking out over the crowd exiting the hospital. He could see Dean and Lady Matlock heading for the exit. She kept her eyes on him at first and then became distracted by someone calling from the other side of the lot. Sam snuck up behind them and pulled Dean out of the fray. He kept his eyes peeled as he loaded him into the backseat of the car then covered him with a blanket. He hotwired the car and got it on the road while everyone was focused on the hospital ‘fire’.
He had to deposit Dean in a hotel room in another town and go back for the Impala. He knew that… but any minute… “Sam, where’d they tow my baby?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“What were you doing all this time?”
“Pulling off the perfect escape plan.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Shut up and lay down.”
TBC