Still setting the stage a little.

To be completely honest – Dean HAD felt really good about this particular gig in the Utah desert. Far away from any town, no passerby's to worry about and dusty gravel roads.

When they had finally found the rotten bridge on which the former Civilian Conservation Corps employee Ben Halverston had set up camp to lethally annoy the few tourists that found their way out there every year, the mood was light.

„Sam, we should totally get a picture or something. Maybe find a donkey to pose with us. Huh?"

Sam had smiled, for the first time in days and Dean kept the jokes coming. Maybe it was that or maybe it was the high temperatures and the sun, which had only recently set behind the mountains. All Dean remembered was that Mr. Halverston had turned up half a second before he could reach the next punchline of the now ongoing donkey-joke.

And, oh yes, he remembered being shoved, hard. Reaching out to where there should be something, but wasn't, Dean had then realized that things were going downhill. Literally.

After a pang and a snap he really didn't remember anything.

But Dean clearly recalled a rather nice feeling when coming to. It was warm and pain free and Sam was right there.

But since good things never last, the second time was much less of all the above and soon enough it had been brought to his attention that he'd really messed this one up good.

But that didn't mean Richfield/Utah would have to be considered a new permanent home for the Winchesters and that is why Dean had started the whining as soon as he had his voice back.

First, he mentioned the wonky health insurance.

"S'fine, Dean", Sam had said.

Then Dean questioned the idea of staying too long in once place. With the FBI and all…

"Fake names. We're good", Sam had said.

Stepping up the game, Dean had finally mentioned their Dad.

"M'sure we'll find him sooner or later"

And when Dean still hadn't stopped, Sam had snapped. Just like that.

All right, so it was time to get the big guns out and Dean was confident that he could totally do the quiet thing.

So, when Sam was feeling a little better (god, I hope he is) and had returned with a cup of coffee a short while later (no, of course I didn't want one in this fragile state I'm in, thank you very much), Dean had given his best-of-deepest-sighs, closed his eyes and asked for the television off (there, see how like that, bitch!).

He kept it up for a few hours (because he fell asleep) and when he woke up, Sam looked up from his book and smiled at him with mild but fond interest.

"Hey, how you're doing? Want a drink of water or something?"

And while Dean pondered whether he should commit suicide by plastic spoon or strangle himself with the assless hospital gown, god himself stepped in to end his misery.

The phone rang.

"Hey, Bobby", Sam answered

"No, we're still in the area, 'cause Dean…."

"No, he's fine…will be, I guess"

"Yes, I am. But…."

"How far away is it?"

"Really? Well, I guess I could stop by…. Sure Bobby, I will"

AMEN

**************************************************

The woman was as pretty as a soccer mum gets. Her honey blonde hair carefully tied up. Not the quickie to prevent the kids from pulling or chewing on it. Silk blouse, unobtrusive makeup and a pleasant voice.

Sam thought that he could have drawn worse.

"There was Pamela, Julie and I, of course. We all saw it happen. All of us!"

The woman – Erika – looked at him triumphantly as if the sheer number of eyewitnesses alone would make it true.

"One street light after the other went out. But they didn't just turn off. They exploded. One after the other. And it was coming towards us!"

"Have you spoken to the police about this. Or maybe some City official?", Sam inquired.

"Of course, we have. We were told there was a power failure. But how does that make lights explode? One after the other?"

Sam winced. He was really itching to call his brother and he needed a break. Just as he got ready to thank Erika for her time and head out, she started over.

"There is more. There was this incident with the dogs on the roof"

"The what?"

"We found dogs, all from our neighborhood, on the rooftops one morning"

"How…"

"Police said they might have gotten scared by a thunderstorm. But in my mind, this would probably make a dog dig a hole in the ground. But climb on a rooftop?"

"Errr…"

"And of course, the panties' incident"

"What…???"

"Pamela Bower found all of her underwear – beautiful lingerie, of course – one day laid out on the front lawn when she came home from work. She does have some astonishingly hot pieces and they were all clean. But, it's not exactly what a woman wants to share with the world. If you know what I mean…People thought it was a yard sale"

Sam rubbed his temples and shut his notebook.

"Thank you Erika. I...I will look into this. And…in the meantime…if anything comes up – this is my number and I want you to call. Anything, ok?"

He shoved a piece of paper across the table and left the cozy family-diner. Blinking around Main Street he took what he thought was one last glance at the town of Salina and headed back to Richfield.