Friends in Low Places

51

Sam glanced between his brother and friend. "Police say Mr. Jenkins was shot in the heart at point-blank range by a nine-millimeter."

Dean kept eating and Francesca replied, "And he's not a doughnut?"

"Locals are saying it's a miracle."

"Okay," Dean and Francesca said.

"It's got to be something nasty, right? I mean, people are making deals or something."

Dean and Francesca considered his words before the former asked, "You think?"

"What else would it be?"

Francesca shrugged. "I don't know, and clearly Sam doesn't either."

"All right." He put his laptop in his bag. "Get that to go."

Dean looked down and didn't move.

"Come on," Sam and Francesca told him.

Sam stood and picked up his bag. Francesca grabbed her jacket and bag. Dean didn't move except to chew. Sam looked at him, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "What?"

Dean looked up and kept chewing, then glanced away and back and said, "Sure you want me going with you and Frankie?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't want to be holding you back or nothing."

"Dude, Frankie and I've told you a hundred times, that was the siren talking, not me. Can we get past this?"

Dean put down the burger. "Yeah, we're past it." He brushed off his hands.

Francesca glanced at Dean and smiled lightly. "I didn't mean what I said, Dee. Well, I did about Ty. Bastardo took advantage of me when I vulnerable."

Dean nodded. "I know, Frankie. Dick move."

"Majorly."

JENKINS' HOUSE

The trio were sitting with Jim in the dining room.

"Now, you three said you were bloggers?" Jim asked, sitting across from Sam.

"Yes, sir," Sam replied. "Floored by the Lord dot com."

"All of God's glory fit to blog," Dean added while Francesca nodded, attempting to keep a straight face.

Dean grinned and Francesca smiled.

Sam glanced at his brother and friend and cleared his throat. "Um. Some of the people around town are saying what happened to you was a miracle."

"It was," Jim answered. "Plain as day."

"How can you be so sure?"

"How else do you explain it? The doctors can't."

"There's a bullet in my heart, and it's pumping like a piston."

"Well, how do you explain it?" Dean questioned.

Jim hesitated and looked at his daughter. "Look, honestly. I was nobody's saint - not exactly father of the year, either."

"Okay."

"But when that guy shot me and I didn't bleed a drop? I just knew the Lord was giving me a second chance."

Francesca raised a brow. "Is that so?"

"I had this feeling - like angels were watching over me." Jim paused and Dean and Francesca nodded. "I wouldn't expect you guys and lady to understand."

"Well, we'll just have to try," Dean said.

"You wouldn't have happened to have swung by a crossroads in the past week or so?" Sam asked.