A/N - I was evacuated by the police last night for a SWAT team/bomb squad call out. (no, I'm not making that up.) After I got past the idea of saving the sheriff's office a lot of money by stomping in there and bitchslapping the neighbor myself, I got to wondering how often this kind of thing happened to the Winchesters, since they spend a lot of time in seedy motels.

1:34am.

He squinted at the glowing green numbers in the darkness.

The darkness now being broken by red and blue lights swirling outside the room.

He had been first been pried from sleep by the faint wail of a siren in the distance that cut off much too abruptly. Not as if the officer or ambulance had reached their destination, but as if someone had reached up and flipped off the switch.

Drawing the pistol from between the mattress and box springs, John rolled out of bed in the darkness, glancing over his shoulder toward the other bed as he silently made his way toward the plate glass window.

Dean was awake, curled protectively around Sammy, as always. John couldn't see Sam's face, couldn't tell if he was still asleep, or just stilled.

There were four police cars in the parking lot, and at least two more coming up the road. They were coming in silent, which meant they didn't want to tip off someone in the motel.

John cursed under his breath, wondering what had given him away. The credit card he had used to secure the hotel room was brand new. There was no way it could have been reported already.

And besides, some podunk little town like this wouldn't send every officer they had to arrest someone for using a bogus account.

Well, unless this was the most excitement they had around here for a while, which was possible.

The last job had been a routine salt and burn two towns over. John had taken his usual precautions, so the chances anyone had seen him, or gotten his license plate, were slim.

That didn't mean it couldn't have happened.

John backed away from the window, turning toward the beds, and held a finger to his lips. Dean nodded almost imperceptibly.

John crossed the room to the tiny bathroom, putting the gun in his back waistband and standing on the toilet to look out the window that was at least big enough to get the boys out.

Dammit.

There was a patrolcar behind the motel as well, two cops with guns drawn standing alongside it.

John came back into the main room just as the banging on the door began.

Whatever sound Sam started to make was quickly hushed by Dean's hand over his mouth.

"Get under the bed!" John hissed at the boys, and began making the bed as quickly as possible to hide the fact someone else had been in the room.

The pounding continued. "Open the door! This is the police!"

John dropped to his knees to peer under the bed.

"Whatever happens, don't let them separate you and Sammy."

Dean nodded, wide eyed, and scooted back further under the bed.

"Mr. Merrill, open the door!" a voice called from outside. "This is the Hamilton County Sheriff's Office!"

Merrill.

Not Carter, the name currently on the Impala's registration. Not Winchester, which meant they didn't know who he really was, which meant they most likely didn't know he was wanted in six states.

Including this one.

Merrill. The name they had used to check into the motel.

"Mr. Merrill, we need to get your family to safety!" a second voice insisted.

With one more glance to make sure the boys were invisible under the bed, John pulled on a flannel shirt to cover the gun at his back. He then crossed the room and opened the door.

"Sir, we have a domestic situation a few rooms down, and we've had to call in the SWAT team." A uniformed officer announced. "We need you and your family to leave the premises for your own safety. There's another motel about two miles south on this same highway. You can go there for the rest of the night."

"Domestic situation?" John questioned, blinking and making a show of yawning. "SWAT team?"

The officers nodded.

"We didn't know what was going on." John explained with a hint of melodrama. "My kids were scared to death."

"We apologize, sir." The lieutenant offered. "But we need you to leave for your own safety."

"Yes, absolutely." John agreed.

He walked over to the far bed and knelt down. "Boys, come out. The police are here and they're going to keep us safe, okay?"

Dean wriggled out from under the bed, followed by Sam. The older brother wrapped his arms around the younger and looked at the officers warily.

"Mr. Merrill, if you want to grab your luggage, my partner and I will help you get the boys to the car." The senior officer waved in the direction of the two duffles on the dresser. "Do you have anything in the bathroom you need to get?"

"No." John shook his head. "No, everything is here."

Dean picked up Sammy, resting him on one hip.

"Don't do that." One of the officers cautioned. "Let him walk. He's too big for you to carry like that."

"He's seven." Dean glared at the policeman, as if daring him to contradict the child.

"You're a good big brother." The other officer smiled at Dean and gave a brief headshake to his partner. "I know both of you must be scared, so let's just get you out of here as quick as we can, okay?"

Dean nodded, still holding Sam.

John opened the door and stepped out, looking back to make sure the boys and the cops followed. The boys paused in the doorway, looking around at the multiple officers with guns pointed toward a doorway halfway down the building, and the black van parked on the far side of the lot. The two officers flanked the children on either side, escorting them out to the back driver's side door of the car. John tossed the two duffles onto the passenger front seat and slid behind the wheel.

One of the officers waited until Sam and Dean were in the backseat, Dean helping Sam with his seatbelt, and then closed the door for them.

The other officer tapped on the roof of the car, and John rolled down the window a few inches. "Again, we're really sorry sir. Y'all take care now."

"Thank you." John nodded, then rolled up the window and backed out of the parking space.

As they turned onto the two lane highway, Sam spoke up. "Daddy, you should have offered to stay and help them. You have more guns than they do."