Disclaimer: I own nothing and no copyright infringement is intended.
AN: I'm really not sure this is any good, but hell, I tried. This is a fairly new fandom for me, so it's a bit nerve wracking.
Chapter One
Dean sits on the bed in the rundown motel and watches Sam sleep. He's peaceful now, not like earlier when he was thrashing in the bed whispering Jess's name. Dean should probably still be asleep. God knows he's tired after staying up all night with Sam, but he just needs to reassure himself that Sam is okay.
Sam rolls over and pulls the blanket up to his chin. His nose twitches and he looks for a moment like he might wake, but he doesn't. He lets out a sigh and drifts back to sleep.
Dean smirks, and standing, he walks over to the small table and grabs the paper, taking a seat. It's still early and the sun is just breaking the horizon. The first few rays of light are stretching through the window and casting a warm glow through the room.
Dean sets the paper down and scrubs his hands over his face, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, resting his elbows on the table.
There is a snuffling noise and Dean looks over to the bed where Sam is sleeping. He watches him stir for a moment and then stretches out like a cat.
"Morning, sunshine," Dean says.
Sam groans and throws an arm over his eyes. "Too early," he mumbles.
Dean smirks, looking at his watch. "Shut up, it's almost 6 o'clock."
Sam rolls over and pulls the pillow with him, pressing it over his head. "I hate you."
Dean chuckles. "Love you too, asshole."
Sighing, Dean stands and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair, heading for the door. "I'm going out. I need coffee."
Sam waves a hand in the air and grumbles something. Dean has no idea what it is, but he's fairly certain it wasn't enjoy yourself.
He makes his way to the Impala and unlocks the door. Getting in, he takes a moment to stroke the steering wheel and greet his baby before starting her up.
He backs out and drives down the main road toward the small diner they had seen on the way into town. Finding a spot, he pulls in. He looks around the lot; there are a lot of pickup trucks and beat up cars. It's a low income area for sure.
The diner is small but quaint and homey. It makes him feel comfortable. He takes a seat at the counter and a small, blonde waitress walks over from behind the kitchen partition. She smiles at him, but it doesn't seem to reach her eyes.
"Hey there, hon'," she says, pulling out a pad and pen from her apron. "What can I get for ya?"
Dean looks her over and grabs the menu. "How about a piece of your best pie and a cup of coffee, darlin'?" He winks.
She scratches something down and nods. "Be right out."
She walks back to the kitchen and he looks around. The little diner is filled with scruffy men, mostly wearing baseball caps and flannel; they all seem to be very redneck, not that it bothers Dean at all. He would rather be around down to earth people any day than some uptight banker.
The waitress reappears with the plate and slides it in front of him. "Here you are, one slice of blueberry pie." She reaches back and grabs a cup, filling it just near the edge with coffee.
"Anything else?" she asks.
"No, thank you."
She nods and walks around the counter to go tend to another customer. Dean can't help but listen in while she chats with one of the locals at the table behind him.
"How you doing, sweetheart?"
He hears her sigh. "I'm hanging in there."
"If you don't mind me asking, how's Jimmy handling it all?"
"Honestly? He's a mess, Earl. I mean, who wouldn't be? But he's just a kid."
"If there's anything I can do, let me know, all right?"
"Thank, I'll keep it in mind."
Dean hears the clicking of her heels as she walks back around the counter. "How's the pie?" She smiles.
Dean tilts his head to the side. "It's great," he pauses, "but can I ask you something?"
Her brow pinches together and she frowns a little. "Sure I guess."
"Who's Jimmy?"
Her face hardens and she looks away. "He's my nephew."
"Is he all right? I heard you talking," Dean says.
"I take it you haven't seen the news?" she saying, grabbing a cloth and folding it in her hands. "Jimmy found his father, my brother, Collin." She looks at her hands. "He was dead. They say an animal did it, but I don't know what kind of animal could have done that to him."
"Done what exactly?"
Her eyes begin to tear and she looks away. "It was like something … like something had peeled his skin off."
Dean's eyes go wide and he swallows. "Shit," he curses under his breath. "That's—"
"Awful?" she says. "Yeah, and the police aren't interested." The door chimes and she looks up, wiping her eyes. "Excuse me, but I need to get back to work."
Dean downs the last dregs of coffee and reaches for his wallet, taking out a ten and setting his cup on top of it.
When he arrives back at the motel, Sam is awake, sitting at the table, his hair poking out in all directions.
"I see you've decided to finally join the living," Dean says, shrugging off his jacket and laying it over the chair. "Did you sleep well?" he asks even though he already knows the answer.
Sam shrugs. "Did you get your coffee?"
Dean frowns a little. "So are we just going to pretend that you didn't spend the night tossing and turning?"
"Yeah, pretty much." Sam flicks up the paper.
"Sammy …"
Sam looks up at Dean, wrinkling his brow. "I'm all right."
"Why don't I believe you, then?"
Sam looks back down at the paper. "Did you read the paper? There's been an animal attack, killed a man in his house."
"I talked to a waitress in town, the guy's sister. Apparently, he was peeled to death."
Sam's lip turned up. "Peeled?" he says slowly.
"Yeah, that's what she said. Nasty, huh? With any luck he was dead before they got to that part."
Sam nods his head to the side. "Yeah, that's pretty gross."
"I think we should get dressed and head down to the hospital, check things out."
Dressed in their suits, with IDs ready, they knock on the door to the medical examiner's office. The placard on the door reads: Doctor Fredrick Gleeson, MD. An older, heavy set man with grey hair and a beard opens the door. He looks tired. His eyes have dark bags hanging beneath them and he smells like a mix of tobacco and whiskey.
He sighs when he sees the suits, looking them up and down. "Let me guess, FBI?"
Dean smiles. "Agent Simmons and this is Agent Frehley." They flash their badges. "We're here to talk to you about Collin Hatch's death."
The man steps aside and lets them in. The room is only lit by a dusty lamp which sits atop a cluttered desk. The man hobbles back behind his desk and sits down with a sigh. The doctor wheezes and coughs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He shakes his head and sputters one last time and then stops altogether. Dean wonders for a second if the man had just drawn his last breath.
Dean looks at Sam, who shrugs.
The doctor coughs and then sits up with a start, looking around wildly. "Where were we?"
Sam leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "Um, are you all right?"
"Yes, why?" the doctor says.
Dean smiles. "So, the file on Collin Hatch?"
The doctor finds the file amidst the mess without a problem. "Here you are. Can't say I'll forget that case. Not sure why you're interested, though."
Dean takes the proffered file and flips it open. The first thing he sees is the photo of what was left of Mr. Hatch. His whole upper body was stripped of its skin, and in some areas, muscle as well. The only thing that remained intact was his face and part of his leg. It was a macabre sight.
Sam leans over and looks at the file. He points at the photo. "I know this might seem obvious, but what was ruled the cause of death?"
"Funny you ask that. I found something in the blood work, take a look at the second page." He points to Dean.
Dean lifts the page and scans over the document. He's not sure what he supposed to be looking for, though. He glances up at the doctor.
"There was some type of poison in his blood. The only thing I can find that remotely matches it is Gila monster venom."
"Excuse me?" Sam chokes.
The doctor smiles and shakes his head. "A Gila Monster is a type of lizard. Gives a nasty bite. The only reason I recognized it is because of the research this hospital's been doing on the venom. It's got a lot of potential for medical purposes."
Dean purses his lips and tilts his head. "So you think this guy was bit by one?"
"Well, no. The Gila Monster isn't found anywhere near here, and I doubt Mr. Hatch had one for a pet. Besides, that wouldn't explain the rest. It's not like a lizard did that to him."
Sam furrows his brow. "Then how did the venom get into Collin?"
The doctor folds his hands on the desk, looking at both of them. "That's a good question. I wish I had the answer."
"Do you think we could see the body?" Dean asks, flipping the file closed.
The doctor frowns. "Afraid not. It was cremated this morning."
"Well, thank you for your time, Doctor Gleeson." Sam and Dean both stand, each reaching out and shaking the man's hand. "If we have any more questions, we'll be sure to contact you. Here's our card. Call us if anything else comes up."
"Will do." The doctor sees them out and they walk back to the car.
They head back to the motel. Dean's stomach rumbles as he pulls into the space outside their room.
Sam is quick to get out and he head straight into the room. Dean grabs his phone and calls information to get the number to a local pizzeria.
Getting the number, he calls and orders a veggie special. His lip curls at the idea of all veggie toppings but he knows Sam will like it, so he can take one for the team.
Dean walks into the room and slumps down into one of the chairs. "I've ordered a pizza," Dean says. "It should be here soon."
Sam looks up from his laptop. He's stretched out on the bed, back against the headboard. "Huh?" he says.
"Food, I ordered some."
"Oh," Sam blinks. "I'm not really hungry."
"You need to eat something. You haven't since yesterday."
"Yeah, haven't had much of an appetite."
"Do you want to, you know, talk about it?" Dean winces a bit. Talking really isn't his thing, but Sam seems to need something and maybe a chat is it.
Sam shrugs. "About what?"
"Whatever's been eating you lately," Dean says, crossing his arms.
Sam looks away, his brow wrinkling. "I don't want to talk about it."
Dean rubs a hand through his hair. "You're going to have to sooner or later."
There's a knock at the door and Dean gets up to answer it. The pizza has arrived. Dean takes a slice out and slips it onto a paper plate, holding it out in front of Sam.
"Eat," Dean commands.
Sam looks up at the offending slice with contempt. "I'm not hungry."
"Eat."
"No, I told you I'm—"
Dean pushes the laptop closed and sets the plate down on it. "Eat."
Sam rolls his eyes but picks up the slice. "Better?" he says, taking a bite and chewing it a bit obnoxiously.
"Yep."
Dean goes to his duffel and digs around for a second. He's looking for the prescription bottles that he knows are in there somewhere. He'd gone to the clinic in the last town and faked his way into a prescription for sleeping pills and anti-anxiety meds.
He finds them with a triumphant huff.
Sam looks over at him, obviously puzzled. "What are you doing?"
Dean stands and tosses the two bottles at Sam. "The directions are on the bottle."
"And?"
"And I want you to take them. You haven't slept worth shit lately, and you're twitchy as hell."
Sam tosses the bottles back at him. "I'm fine."
Dean narrows his eyes at him. "Fine, but don't expect me to give a damn later tonight then when you're crying in your sleep."
xXx
Dean wakes up with a start, grabbing his knife from under his pillow and looking around the room. He quickly finds the source of the noise that woke him. Sam is in the throes of another nightmare, tossing in the bed, twisting in the sheets. Dean reaches over and turns on the bedside light. He can see a sheen of sweat on Sam's brow.
Sighing, Dean swings his feet around and off the bed. He rubs his eyes and stretches quickly.
Sam whimpers, and Dean's heart aches for his brother. Regardless of how thick-headed he can be at times, Dean loves him and doesn't want to ever watch him suffer.
He stands and walks over to the other bed, sitting gently on the edge of the bed. Careful of his movements, he reaches out and gives Sam's shoulder a little shake.
"Sam," he says softly. "Sammy, wake up."
Sam murmurs something and Dean leans in to listen.
"Jess … please … NO!"
Dean sighs. It's pretty clear what the dreams about and Dean gives Sam's shoulder another nudge, this time harder.
Sam eyes snap open and he makes to swing on Dean, but stops when he sees him. "What the fuck, man?"
"You were having another nightmare."
Sam swallows and looks away. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."
Dean stands and goes over to the table to grab the pills. "Humor me and take something. We both need sleep, and if you're tossing and turning then neither of us are getting any."
"Fine," Sam says, and Dean tosses the pills to him.
Sam takes one of the little blue tablets out of the bottle and swallows it down dry. He sets the bottle of pills down on the nightstand and lays back down.
It's late morning before either of them stir. Dean's up first and he goes over to the table and fiddles with the cheap coffee maker that came with the room. He takes a packet of coffee from the basket and retrieves some water to start the pot. He hates motel coffee but he doesn't want to drive into town to get a cup either.
He sits down at the table and pulls out Dad's journal, flipping through the pages. He can't find anything about skin peeling demons or skin peeling creatures so he tosses the journal down and watches the pot. It trickles slowly and he leans his elbows on the table.
Frustrated, he reaches for his phone and puts a call in to Bobby. If anything, maybe he had heard of something like this before. He gives him the details that they know and then pauses, debating on telling him about Sam's nightmares but he stops himself. He knows Sam wouldn't want him spreading it around that he couldn't sleep at night.
Bobby agrees to hunt down what he can and get back to him as soon as possible.
The bed creaks and Dean glances over. A very sleepy looking Sam stretches and then sits up. He yawns wide, rocking his head side to side, cracking his neck.
"I called Bobby," Dean says. "Filled him in. He's gonna to do some research and get back to me."
"Good," Sam says. "The Wi-Fi around here is crap. I can barely open Google without it locking up."
"So I was thinking that we should head over and speak with Collin's family today. See if he was into anything hinky."
Sam looks at him, brow raised and a slight smirk on his face. "Hinky? Really?"
"Bite me, bitch."
The coffee maker beeps and Dean grabs two styrofoam cups, pouring them each a cup.
"Coffee's done," Dean says, holding out a cup for Sam.
Sam stands and takes the cup. He sips at it, making a face. "This is awful."
Dean shrugs, grabbing a sugar packet from the basket and tossing it to Sam. "Add that, it'll help."
After they drink their coffees, they both get changed and shrug on their coats, off to see the little boy and his aunt.