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Title: I Fought The Law
Recipient: ammcj062
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1775
Warnings: injuries, some language
Author's Notes: Thank you to [personal profile] ammcj062 for the fantastic prompts, and as always to Whit for support and inspiration.

Summary: Henriksen isn't the first cop they've ever had to deal with.



hangman is comin' down from the gallows and I don't have very long

2007

It’s quiet in the car, for just a few seconds. They’re peeling off SWAT gear, sweating like junkies in detox, and contemplating the enormity of what they’ve just done.

Henriksen.

Victor Fucking Henriksen. Real FBI.

He knows about St. Louis. He even knows about Baltimore. This asshole is hooked, and there is no way he’s going to stop hunting their asses down. Fleetingly, Sam thinks this guy’s single-minded determination reminds him of their father.

Sam opens his mouth as if to speak, then stops, then tries again. No words are forthcoming from the shotgun seat.

Dean states the obvious, “We are so screwed”, then punches the gas and gets them the hell out of there.

The Winchester brothers have had their fair share of dodging authority figures over the course of their lives. They’ve been in this game since they were too young to know they were playing it. This time, they both know it’s nowhere near their past experiences. Henriksen isn’t going to forget about them, or throw up his hands in frustration and write them off.

They’re on the road to infamy.



2005

They’re back on the road together for barely a day. Sammy’s different, Dean thinks. Kind of.

Sam doesn’t really feel like he’s changed all that much. Maybe on the outside. But a couple of years at Regular Kid University can’t erase his instincts. It’s chiseled into his DNA the same as his hazel eyes and his long legs.

The two of them have had systems in place for years. If this happens, do that. If someone asks you this, tell them that. If you’re with dad, this is what you say. If it’s just the two of you, this is what you say. Remembering all of it had never been an issue, because John Winchester’s rules aren’t things you forget.

Getting busted by local sheriff’s deputies in this podunk town isn’t a serious concern. Sam had been hauled in a few times as a teenager, but it was easy to get back out. Sam always had tools at his disposal. Pick a lock, tell a sad story, insist to the cops that he’s just a really tall 14 year old, whatever.

Dean has all of his own ways, and he’s definitely developed new tactics since Sam has been at school. But this time, he doesn’t really have to do much on his own, thanks to a paper clip and his brother’s brain. He’s surprised, but very grateful.

Fake 911 phone call Sammy, I don’t know, that’s pretty illegal

Whatever works, though. This small town sheriff and his deputies are going to forget all about them both.

They have no idea what’s coming their way at the end of the weekend.



1996

Summer’s winding down, and Sammy needs school supplies. Dean doesn’t bother. He finished the previous school year mostly to pacify his little brother, but at seventeen, education is no longer compulsory for Dean. He’s not going back, Sammy’s given up trying to talk him into it, and John doesn’t consider finishing high school a priority in their line of work.

John never wanted to drop out of school. When he was Dean’s age, he always had food and clothes and he went to sleep safe in his own bed, in the same house, every night.

It was just the two boys anyway, on that day, using this month’s credit card for pencils and binders and a pair of shoes at the only big box store in town.

The card doesn’t work. Which is fine, they can get another one from their dad. It’s not like this has never happened before. Except that this lady at the register looks suspicious. Sammy has deployed the puppy dog eyes; Dean casually says their dad must have accidentally given them the wrong card.

She’s not buying it. She wants them to stay right there while she calls the credit card company.

This is less than ideal. But just as she’s waiting on hold, she smiles and waves at someone walking toward them. A very ornery looking patrol officer heads over.

Cashier lady looks away for just a minute to attempt a conversation with one of the three officers employed by this town.

A minute’s enough. The cop is slow, he’s probably seventy years old. He hasn’t gotten close enough yet to speak to their skeptical cashier, so Dean nods at Sammy to take the opening. Sam darts away while she’s not looking.

Without hesitation, he knocks a display rack filled with school supplies onto a lady and sprints back to his brother. Everyone is now focused solely on the commotion and ruckus behind them, so the boys make a quick but stealthy exit. With their bag of supplies, of course.

Sam frets for a minute about whether or not he had hurt that lady, but Dean tells him not to worry, so. Winchesters: 1, Cop: 0.

Their record was pretty good, but by no means were the boys undefeated.



1995

Dean’s not able to wiggle his way out of it this time. It’s the bread, he knows - too difficult to conceal. And it has to be a dumb-ass cop who slaps on the cuffs on him. That makes it worse.

He is fine with the made-up story. They had no money left and Sammy needed food. He has no problem immediately confessing to have lost all of their money gambling. In truth, he spent the majority of it buying supplies so Sam could participate in this science class project of making a small model airplane. Dean isn’t about to tell the police or his father that story.

He hadn’t sucker-punched that cop. The guy saw it coming, it landed directly in his face, he was just too slow. Or maybe he didn’t think a kid could give him a black eye.

The only sucker-punch here was that his dad had left him at this boys’ home. He puts on his best “this doesn’t bother me” mask for the dude with the moustache. Another interrogation when the guy sees the bruises on his arm. The usual questions. He can’t hold back a chuckle at the suggestion that the cop whose ass he’d just kicked had roughed him up. He stares blankly into the distance when Sonny asks if it was John, then gives the safest answer he can. Werewolf.

Dean is more than a little surprised that he’d started liking the place. And more than a little happy when he sees that Sammy still has that stupid plane. He’s not thrilled with the timing, but there’s no other option but to get back on the road.



1988

The very first time that Sam and Dean have to pull a disappearing act together, on their own, Sammy has only just turned five, and there are no police involved at all.

Finding a full size Sony camcorder in a closet of the shack they’re temporarily living in this summer, Dean figures it will be fun to try recording the stupid crap that he’s always trying to get his brother to do.

Scrounging through their things for stuff they can use to approximate super hero costumes is something they’ve done before. There was a storage shed behind the little house. It wasn’t really tall, but there’s no way Sammy’s going to jump off it unless Dean does it first. He might still be young but he’s been pranked by his big brother enough times that he’s already wary of things Dean says will be so much fun.

So off he goes. Dean, in his Superman outfit, jumps from the very low roof and doesn’t get a scratch on him. He doesn’t even have to encourage Sammy any further. He’s just seen Dean do it, and Dean’s fine, which is iron clad proof that it’s completely safe.

Sam’s not even in the air long enough to enjoy it before he lands on the ground and starts screaming. He’s too young to put on an act like that if he’s just trying to freak out his brother. Dean runs, turns him over, and his face goes white. Sammy won’t stop cradling his arm close to his body.

One of those walk-in urgent care clinics is only a couple of blocks away, so Dean manages to get Sammy on the bike he found the first week they were there and takes off like Elvira Gulch.

It’s no problem getting someone to immediately take care of Sam’s arm without any questions or paperwork as soon as they get there. But as the doctor’s finishing up Sammy’s cast, it starts. Where are your parents? What’s your home phone number? Who’s taking care of you two?

The police are a clear threat; Dean knows enough about theft and fraud even at his age to get that. But even more than the police or any other authority figure, the top-tier boogeyman is child services. It is the sword constantly hanging over their heads. One wrong move and they’ll come get us. Take the boys away from their dad, and then take Dean and Sam away from each other. There is no ghost or monster more terrifying.

Dean knows they have to get out when he sees the front desk lady making a phone call, her eyes darting back toward Sam several times. As soon as the cast is done, he whispers to Sammy that they need to sneak out, quickly and quietly. Sammy kind of gets it, because somehow he knows they’re not like other kids or other families, he’s just not really clear on why or how. Dean pockets the slip prescribing pain medication and asks a nurse if he can take Sam to the little boys’ room. They sneak out of an unlocked door in the back hallway.

The boys return to the place they’re staying, using a roundabout route and on foot. No point in talking the bicycle, Dean’s just going to have to leave it behind when they move on to the next town anyway. Right now they have to come up with a story for their dad to explain this injury that will cause them the least amount of trouble with John.

There’s no way for either of these kids to know what’s coming in their future. And certainly no way to guess, while they’re sneaking through that parking garage in SWAT gear, that one day it will be nostalgic and comforting to remember the times when the scariest thing chasing them was an FBI agent.
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