Be Careful What You Wish For…

Part One

The office was a-buzz with activity but Emma could not be distracted from her nervous fidgeting. She paced back and forth in front of the closed door and wrung her resume in her sweaty hands.

"Emma, you've got this. You're experienced, you're educated, you're the right person for the job," her friend tried to calm her down.

Emma glanced at the boy across the hall. He was also nervous, also pacing, but not allowing himself to commiserate with the enemy. "Yeah, well he's a man," was Emma's simple yet hopeless reply.

"So what if your boss is a notorious chauvinist? Taking a freshly minted grad student over an employee with 15 years experience? Unheard of!" her friend's assurance was hard to ignore.

"I guess you're right," Emma conceded, perking up. "I am more qualified!"

At that moment, her boss and some over-eager assistants emerged in a hurried bustle from the office. Her boss stiffened at the sight of Emma and called Lucas, the young grad student, over to where he was standing. "I have come to a decision," was his ominous beginning, "Lucas will assume the position of Chief of Finance," he continued in a hurried tone.

Emma's face fell as Lucas's lit up with unexpected glee. The boss avoided Emma's defeated gaze and retreated back into his office, not one to relish uncomfortable silences.

As the over-eager assistants took the triumphant Lucas to see his new office, Emma entered and approached her boss's desk.

He tried to hide his nervous glance. "Ya know, it was just so close there at the end. You really are a wonderful employee," he tried to diffuse this HR complaint with flattery, "but you're just not cut out for higher management," he finished with a sexist tone.

"I wish you were dead!"Emma thought hard as the anger bottled inside threatened to engulf her completely. The look of surprise on her face was evident as the letter opener on his desk flew up and slit her boss's throat cleanly across the vein.

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"So why do we have to get new ID cards?" Sam pestered Dean once again as he emerged from the copy shop.

"Because, people keep figuring out these classic rock references," Dean stated matter-of-factly, referencing the time he used the drummer from Led Zeppelin. "Mullet rock is coming back into style, Sammy," Dean gloated, remembering Sam's quip about his cassette tapes.

"Yeah, I dunno about that," Sam disagreed as he accepted the ID card from Dean's outstretched hand. "L. Michael Lane?" Sam read incredulously. "What does the L stand for, genius?" Sam asked already knowing his brother's smart-ass reply.

"Why Lois of course," Dean replied with a broad grin.

"And what's yours say?" Sam demanded as he wrenched the card from Dean's closed fist hidden behind his back. "C. Thomas Kent? Dean, how is this any more inconspicuous?" Sam groaned. Dean couldn't break his habit of using pop culture references in his chosen aliases. "And why did I have to be the girl?"

"Dude, are you seriously asking that?" Dean laughed as Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean ushered Sam over to the outdoor café table and ordered a drink. As Sam opened his laptop and stared at its contents with a concentrated gaze, Dean asked, "So what's the deal on this case?"

"There have been a string of arrests in the area for heinous crimes. One man killed a cashier at a grocery store for making him wait too long for customer service. Another woman murdered her boss after he promoted a man instead of her. There have also been several cases where the body is still missing but the motive is there," Sam rattled off with a factual tone. "None of the possible murder weapons have prints on them, all the evidence is circumstantial. The only connection the police can find to all of these crimes is that everyone is claiming temporary insanity" Sam continued to stare at the computer with a quizzical look, trying to solve the mystery behind this confusing case.

"As for the murders I'd say demonic possession, mind control?" Dean offered, "But as for the missing persons… any clues from the interrogations?" Dean asked, prompting Sam to pull up the classified records on his computer.

"All it says is that each suspect refuses to talk," Sam replied simply.

"A sure sign they're guilty," Dean judged quickly. "Sam, what makes you think this is our kind of case?"

"Because none of the suspects could talk," Sam revealed, "their voice vanished with the disappearance of their victims."

Dean drew in a slow breath. "I guess we better go visit those suspects."

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Sam and Dean showed up at the county jail in suits and ties fit for public defenders.

Dean waltzed in with an air of importance as Sam flashed his ID at the nearest guard.

"L. Michael Lane?" the guard read from Sam's newly minted ID, "What's your first name, Lois?" the guard teased as Sam gave him a weak smile and moved on down the hall.

Sam continued giving Dean the dirtiest of looks until the door opened to the visiting room. Dean's satisfied laughter immediately desisted.

"We're here to see a Mr. Bryan Cassidy. We're his public defenders," Dean rattled off, seasoned in lying about his identity. The guard stepped aside and allowed the boys to enter before he left and closed the door behind him.

Bryan was sitting nervously at the desk, hands clasped, twirling his thumbs around one another. He motioned for Sam and Dean to sit down.

"Bryan, let's get right to it," Dean began, "what happened the night your wife went missing?" Despite being forewarned by Sam about Bryan's muteness, Dean was surprised to see Bryan pull out a legal pad of paper and begin writing his description down. He directed a skeptical glance towards Sam and then picked up the tablet as Bryan slid it towards them.

After skimming it, Dean thrust it into Sam's hand. "We had a fight that night. She was nagging me about not helping her with the chores and I was getting ready to watch the game with a couple of friends on our new big screen," Sam read aloud, "I knew she was going to be pissed all night long so I asked her to leave. She left the room and never came back."

"So why did the police arrest you? Why do they think this is anything more than a missing person's case?" Dean mused.

Bryan snatched back the pad and began writing quickly, uncomfortably aware he was taking up their time. Sam took the pad again and read, "Because I called 911 shortly after. I got up during half-time to get some snacks and I was ready to apologize. I looked for her everywhere. Her keys, purse, and license were all still there. Only a pile of shimmering dust and the locket I had given her were left on the floor where I saw her last." Bryan broke down. He was wracked with silent sobs and he dried his tears quickly with his sleeve. Sam sensed Bryan wasn't telling them everything.

"Bryan?" Sam began, "Is there anything else about that night you're not telling us? Anything you regret?" Sam hazarded a guess as to what the man was feeling.

Bryan looked up at Sam through tear stained eyes. A look of severe guilt passed across his face and he gingerly took the pen and began writing slowly, but surely.

"I wished for her to disappear," it read simply.

Sam stared at it without any sort of recognition, but Dean immediately spoke up, "Thank you for your time Mr. Cassidy. We'll be in touch."

It seemed as though Dean was hurrying Sam out into the hallway and Sam was confused.

"What's up with you?" Sam asked, bewildered at his brother's new tack in approaching this case. "A minute ago you didn't even believe the guy was mute."

"Yeah, well new facts have come to light," was Dean's distracted response. He walked briskly down the hallway and out into the sunshine. Sam, even with his long legs, struggled to keep up on the way to the Impala. Something was wrong and Dean wasn't owning up.

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