Slap, slap, slap. The wipers worked overtime on the windshield to remove the white sheet of rain from the driver's line of vision. The pavement of the road was accumulating the rain water, and the puddles that were forming caused the black vehicle to hydroplane.
"Damn it!" shouted Dean, his grip tightened on the steering wheel as the tires slide along the asphalt. The Impala was headed for the embankment along the side of the road as Dean struggled to straighten out the car. With a few deft movements he was able to get it back on the road.
"That was kinda close, maybe you should slow it down," noted Sam as he loosened his grip on the seat, "so that we don't, um, DIE, on the way to Michael's house."
"Lighten up Sammy, my baby can handle it and I'm like Junior behind the wheel." Dean managed a quick glance away from the road to smirk at his brother before focusing once again on the ever increasingly dangerous driving conditions.
"My God, you'd think it was monsoon season here the way the rain is coming down. How much further to Mikey's house?" Annoyance rang in Dean's voice and Sam knew that the road conditions were worse then Dean would let on.
"Well, according to Mapquest, we should turn right at the next intersection and that'll lead into a subdivision where Mr. Donne lives." Sam held the laptop in a manner that allowed Dean to see the screen.
"You wanna decode the squiggly lines on the shiny screen, not point at them?"
"Another mile and a half you turn, that clear enough for you?"
Dean grunted acknowledgement of the directions and guided the Impala down the side road and to the house they were looking for. It was a two story gray house with a large white porch and a connected two car garage. The driving rain still hadn't let up so both Winchester's made quickly went up to the garage to look for signs of a vehicle. Both spots were empty.
"Good sign he's still at work or something," commented Dean as they headed to the house door.
"It's after 4 pm, so we don't have too long to wait for him to come back," Sam knocked on the door as he spoke. Dean, however, was already reaching for his lock-picking kit in his back pocket. With a pick in each hand he twisted the lock on the door and with a ping the lock was sprung and the door opened. A sliver of light shown through the opening and Dean looked up at Sam with a self-pleased look on his face.
"Ok, let's see what 'On Again, Off Again' dude is really like when no one is watching his sorry ass." Dean shoved open the door and barged into the house.
"Dean, we can't just break and enter into a person's house, how will we explain it if Michael comes back?"
"Live a little Sammy, it always works on TV shows. Besides, we can just whip out those CDC badges and claim his house is a health hazard." Dean glanced around the bachelor pad, "And it ain't too far from the true. You thought I was a pig? This man would give Martha Stewart enough work to last for a year or two…hell, probably three!"
Despite the house's neat outward appearance the inside was totally trashed. Dirty clothes lay everywhere, as did used dishes with crusted on food, fast-food wrappers, and a layer of dust on the furniture. "Now this is Darwinism, Sam."
"We knew he was an ass, now we know that he's not neat-freak. But Dean, I don't think that qualifies him as a demon."
"What? He could be the demon of unkempt houses."
Suddenly the front door swung open and in walked Michael Donne. He glanced at the door with a puzzled look, "I coulda swore I locked the…," he turned and saw the Winchesters in the kitchen area, "Who the hell are you two?" he exclaimed, whipping out his cell phone and heading for the door his fingers moving over the numbers nine and one.
"Wait! Mr. Donne, we're with the CDC," Dean quickly pulled out his badge and flashed it at Michael, "We were worried when we saw your door was open, considering the circumstances, and thought that there might be a problem."
"Right," chimed in Sam, catching on to Dean's train of thought, "You did know a Sadie Rodriguez and we regret to inform you that she died from an odd health occurrence. So, when we saw the door open we were unsure if the same thing that killed her had struck you."
"Sadie's dead? Well, I haven't seen her in the past few weeks. We sorta ran hot and cold, you know how it is…but I never would have guessed anything was wrong. Wait, you said a health issue, is it catching? Am I in danger?"
"Oh, this guy's a real winner," whispered Dean to Sam, who ignored his comment and continued his line of questioning with Michael, "No, we don't think so. Now, she was having sleep issues, wasn't she?"
"Yeah, but, what kind of health issues?" Michael looked between the two men with a confused expression.
"Dude, you're fine, it's Sadie who's dead and since you haven't been around her for a while, you haven't got a thing to worry about. Now, Sadie's sleep issues," probed Dean, annoyance with the guy clearly written on his face.
"Yeah, she kept having bad nightmares. Thought they were real sometimes or something. I honestly couldn't stand the bitch's screaming. She went to some clinic to fix it, but I told her to tough it out and stop being such a wimp. I mean, it's just nightmares, right?" Michael glanced between what he thought were two CDC officials, "So, you're sure I'm alright?"
Sam sighed while Dean rolled his eyes.
"You're fine sir, and if you think of anything regarding Sadie and her sleep issues, let us know." Sam handed him a card with his cell phone number.
Dean and Sam left the house.
"That was a total waste of time. That bastard didn't know a darn thing about Sadie, so I say we check the sleep clinic. After all, we are dealing with a Sandman. Seems like a match made in hell, right?" Dean entered the Impala and slammed the door shut.
"Makes sense, Sandman uses the sleep clinic as a stomping ground. But we did have to rule out the ex as a demon with a grudge on Sadie and using the other deaths as cover."
"We came, we saw, we didn't kick any evil Sandman ass. Next stop, sleeptown. Think any hot chicks'll be there in some cute pj's dreaming away the night?"
"Dean, you're impossible." Sam shook his head at Dean's one track mind regarding women, "Just drive."
Once again they were traveling the road, this time on their way to the now infamous sleep clinic that Sadie had frequented before her death.
