February 28th - March 7th, 2006

Sam lay on the bed with an arm tucked behind his head, eyes closed as he started to drift off to sleep, not bothering to even strip out of his jacket. Turning his head as a deep red liquid dripped onto his forehead, he slowly dragged himself back awake, opening his eyes as a second drop fell.

Jessica. Trapped. Pinned to the ceiling above him, mouth open in a silent scream as the line of crimson across her abdomen widened, pouring blood as ripples of blue fire flickered around her before exploding out in sheets that quickly enveloped the ceiling. Heat rolled down, covering his skin in a sheen of sweat as he opened his mouth to scream…

Waking with a gasp as Dean called his name, Sam blinked away the rapidly receding images of the now familiar nightmare, the same dream he'd been having every time he drifted off. Sitting up from where he'd fallen asleep in the passenger seat, he managed a tight smile, patting the hand Skye slipped into the crook of his elbow, "I take it I was having a nightmare?"

"Yeah. ...another one." Leaning against Sam, Skye looked up at him with concern in her whiskey brown eyes, frowning as she studied him critically. He really wasn't looking so hot these days. He hadn't been sleeping at all well and he'd started losing weight he couldn't really afford to lose, "You okay, Sasquatch?"

"I'm good. Really." Extricating his arm from her hands, he put it around the petite girl's shoulders, giving her a quick hug and dropping a kiss on the top of her head before lying his ass off...not that it did much to convince either of his two companions, "Hey, at least I got some sleep."

"I'm not sure that qualifies." The worry in Dean's voice was obvious, at least to them, though it may not have been to anyone that didn't know him well. He couldn't remember the last time Sam had slept more than a couple of hours without waking up with that look of guilt and fear that took a little longer to fade each time, "Sooner or later, we're gonna talk about this."

Twisting around to glance out the back window, Sam got a glimpse of the large building across the parking lot, diverting the conversation firmly away from himself and back to where it may do some good, "We here?"

"Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio." From the tone of his voice, it was obvious Dean was distinctly unenthused to be in Toledo, Ohio.

"Home to one Corporal Max Klinger of the 4077, best fashion sense in the unit." Skye, on the other hand, was kind of thrilled to be there. Granted, she was pretty easy to please lately, more than willing to try to find something to be excited about as long as the two sitting on either side of her were along for the ride, "I've always wanted to visit, just to say I did."

Frowning in confusion, it was apparent that Sam had no idea who she was talking about. He didn't watch nearly as much TV as Skye and Dean did and didn't get a lot of their references but then, neither did most other people on the planet, "...who?"

"Oh, come on, Sammy. Mash?" Disappointment and disgust warred on Dean's face, ending in a standoff that resulted in a resigned eye-roll, "Only one of the most popular shows of all time."

"Those shows are going to rot your brains and I'm not sure either of you two have much to spare." Probably a good thing they knew Sam didn't really mean anything by it, as that came out a bit snippier than intended.

Opening up the glovebox, he grabbed the newspaper he'd stuffed in there earlier and unfolded it to the obits. Closing the glovebox with his knee, Sam smoothed over the black and white picture labeled 'Steven Shoemaker', tapping the lines written beneath it, "What do you think really happened to this guy?"

"That's what we're gonna find out. Let's go." Opening the driver's side door, Dean climbed out, holding the door open for Skye to slide out behind him. The two of them met Sam around the back of the car before all three of them made their way across the parking lot and up the concrete steps to the Lake Eerie Central Hospital.

One hand tucked in the pocket of her denim jacket, Skye held the door for the boys, humming cheerfully to herself. She was kind of excited about this one, having never visited a morgue or seen a dead body before. Well, not counting poor cynical Roy back in Blackwater Ridge, but that had been his own damn fault for not listening and just generally being an asshole. Besides, she'd been able to buy breakfast with the forty bucks she won off Dean after betting him Roy would be the first to snuff it. All-in-all, that day had been a net win...just not for Roy.

Her curiosity really wasn't as macabre as it might seem on the outside, really she was just a fan of forensic crime shows. They might be horribly inaccurate but she was still looking forward to seeing something straight out of CSI for herself. Not to mention that this was far from likely to be the last time she'd be visiting a place like this and might as well get used to it sooner rather than later.

Pausing in the lobby, Sam and Dean waited as Skye caught up to them, Dean reaching out to tickle the back of her neck before taking her hand in his, "You're way too happy about this. You know you're a little bent, right?"

"Yup, and good thing too, or I'd be incredibly boring. Can you imagine my reaction to this shit if I weren't? The horror." Following after Sam as he read the signs marking the way to the morgue, the two of them didn't seem to be in any particular hurry, Skye knocking against Dean's side to throw him off his stride, "Is it bad to try and enjoy my job?"

"Normally, no." Stopping outside the door marked 'Morgue 144', Sam put his two cents in before pushing open the door and motioning the others to precede him inside, "But considering the job, Dean's right, you're psychologically disturbed."

"Tell me somethin' I don't know." Following Dean through the door, Skye elbowed Sam in the stomach on the way past, though not hard enough to hurt, "Means I fit right in with you guys."

"She's got you there, Sammy."

The room they entered was cold, clinical and poorly lit, the various bits of medical equipment scattered around adding to the sterile feel of the place. On the right-hand side was two solid wooden desks, only one of which was occupied at the moment. An overweight, balding man in his mid-to-late twenties sat, looking bored and generally uninterested in life as he flipped through a thick medical text set on the desktop in front of him.

Raising his head as the trio entered, he marked his place and flipped the book closed, glancing over at the clock as if wondering who in the hell these people were and if it were time for lunch yet, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," answering, Dena let the lie flow easily, though he hadn't put any thought into it before this moment. He rarely did, preferring the spontaneous approach. Planning just took all the fun out of it, "We're the med students?"

Bald and Uninterested took all of half a second to try and recall if they had any med students scheduled for today, but didn't seem awfully motivated to actually check, "Med students?"

"Dr. Fliglavitch didn't tell you?" Having read the name off the placard on the empty desk when they'd come in, Dean only stumbled over it a little. That man was a lot more observant than most people might give him credit for based on looks alone, but then Dean was a lot of things that would shock a lot of people, "We talked to him on the phone?"

"We're from Ohio State." Hands in the back pockets of her jeans, Skye rocked back on her heels, going for the whole 'sweet, cute and helpless' thing. It was something a decent amount of guys ...and some women… responded favorably to. There was also the fact all three of them thought it was fucking hilarious, "He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse for our paper?"

"Well, I'm sorry." No, he wasn't. If anything, pudgy asshole sounded the exact opposite of sorry," Dr. Fliglavitch is at lunch."

Some people. Give them a tiny bit of power and they were more than happy to use and abuse it to make everyone around them as miserable as they possibly could. Definitely seemed like this guy was one of those types, just based on body language and tone of voice. Talk about obnoxious.

"Oh, well, he said uh-You know, it doesn't matter." Considering Dean wasn't really known for his patience with this kind of thing, he was doing an admirable job of keeping a friendly smile plastered on his face, though it no longer reached his eyes, "You don't mind showing us the body, do you?"

"Sorry. Can't. Doc will be back in an hour." Enjoying this entirely too much, the self-important asswipe sat back, a smile on his lips like this was the highlight of his whole damn day. Hell, it probably was, which was just sad if you thought about it, "You can wait for him if you want."

"An hour?" Sucking air through his teeth, Dean glanced at Sam and Skye, looking as if he were trying to work out how they could possibly manage to stay that extra hour, "We gotta be headin' back to Columbus."

Nodding agreement, Sam spoke up for the first time, somehow managing to hide the exhaustion he was feeling as he smiled, "This paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out…?"

"Look, man. No."

Yeah, at this point asshole was just being difficult for the sake of being difficult. Or angling for a bribe. Or both.

Chuckling, Dean turned his back on the officious prick, a smile on his lips as he muttered under his breath where only they could hear, "I'm gonna hit him in his fuckin' face, I swear."

Pausing a second to think before sharing a look over Skye's head, the boys smiled, looking down at her as the same thought crossed both their minds. They had something a lot more effective than a punch in the face, if they could get her to agree to it...and it was also a lot less likely to land anyone in jail for assault.

"Oh, hell no." Catching the glance they exchanged, Skye didn't have any trouble divining its meaning because she wasn't a complete fucking moron. Turning so only the two of them could see her face, she kept her voice down, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at the two men towering over her, "You can both go fuck yourselves. Or better yet, you go flirt, you're pretty enough."

"Oh my God, Dean, she called us pretty." Flipping his hair in the most flamboyant possible way, Sam smirked, batting his lashes at his brother, "I feel so fabulous right now."

"Listen, Chewbacca." Grabbing the lapel of Sam's jacket, Skye dragged him half a step closer, craning her neck to look up at the long-legged freak of nature as she made a few idle threats, "I will physically harm you."

Grinning down at her, Sam ruffled her hair and got smacked on the arm for his trouble before Dean reached over and turned Skye around to face him, resting a hand on either shoulder as he looked down at her with a charming smile gracing lips so perfect they were typically only found in bad fanfiction, "Come on, Tinkerbell. We need to see that body and you can get us in there."

"You know a body you're not gonna see any time soon?" A mostly empty threat, but still, it was the principle of the thing. Since being shown the effect she had on the male gender, she'd done her best to control her reactions to stress and fear, not wanting to inadvertently use her freak genetics to influence those around her. She'd even picked up several volumes on meditation, hoping to maybe someday be able to control it to some degree, like the fakirs did with their physiology. One thing she couldn't even begin to control, however, was her reaction to Dean...and the asshole fucking knew it.

Tilting her head back, he forced her to look up into eyes the green of sunlight through stained glass, what he knew she thought was his best feature. Well, that and his ass, but he wasn't likely to show that off right this minute. Maybe later if he was lucky...and at this point, he'd have to be real damn lucky.

Leaning down, he rested a hand at the base of her throat, his thumb brushing small circles against her skin as he murmured something into her ear. He was playing dirty and he damn well knew it. He also knew it was working as the subtle, sweet floral scent of honeysuckle that clung to her skin grew in the air around her.

"You are such an asshole." The look of absolute fury that flashed across Skye's face was quickly smothered by a smile that didn't come anywhere close to her eyes. Swatting him away, she took a step back and gave him a look that told him in no uncertain terms that this was not over, "That is far far from okay and we are gonna have a long talk later about why and how you're never gonna fuckin' do it again. We clear?"
Turning on a heel, Skye walked away, leaving Sam and Dean standing there as she went to go talk to the jerk that sat smirking behind his desk.

"That really was a dick move, Dean." Waiting until Skye was out of earshot to speak, Sam kept his voice down, raising a brow at his brother as he peered at him through the shaggy brown hair that kept falling into his eyes, "You know you're going to pay for that later, right?"

"...I do now."