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Stretching across the motel bed, Dean sighed as his muscles screamed from yet another night of digging, salting, dowsing, and flaming. The manual labor was definitely not a job perk, but what could he do. Grave desecration wasn't the kind of thing you could consider to outsource to any freak. Although, he was sure there were some pretty freaky people in the world. He shifted, disturbed by something he couldn't quite figure out or maybe by something he didn't want to figure out. Sometimes, it felt like they were the only ones freaky enough to even consider digging up bodies. That thought was disturbing. He had never developed a stomach for seeing corpses. No matter how horrible the actor on some movie made the smell out to be, the reality was so much worse. Sometimes the taste of stomach acid would involuntary taint his throat, but he had managed to keep himself in check. Thinking of things that were rotten, he supposed the interaction with Sam made him feel more rotten than normal. There it was- the dreaded disturbance in his mind. He just wished Sam would say something now.
Sam had not spoken once all the way back to the motel. Dean always felt unnerved when Sam got quiet. It wasn't Sam's way most of the time. Once they made it to their room, Sam had turned the TV on the Hitchcock marathon, leaving Dean to his own devices. He glanced at is brother, who seemed to be engrossed by the boobtube images of birds attacking at a kid's party. He tried not to over think the logic behind his brother's actions. For all he knew, given his own need to not discuss uncomfortable topic, Sam could have just been giving him space.
Dean had to admit, over the last few months, he had a very successful string of "on the prowl" sexual encounters. However, tonight he wanted to just rest and prove his brother wrong. He knew he wasn't the love 'em and keep 'em type. But damn, he did enjoy the chase- the game- of causing a reaction in females, especially the reactions that were not of the emotional nature. He always thought it was good of him to not lie about calling them or promising them anything that even resembled a relationship. He may be a louse, but even he had his own lines to never cross. Even if he wanted to be with one woman, this life permitted no such comforts. Worse, if one could accept his life and him not being around much, it wouldn't be lonely for them both. He tried with Cassie, but it still felt odd even now.
Worse still, it bothered him that Sam thought so little of him. Finally, deciding this was one of those things to bottle up and not turn it into World War III or a Lifetime Movie, he forced himself to stop thinking. Besides, he could take a little bit of harassment without getting too pissed about it.
Slowly, he drifted, allowing the taunt, anxious muscles in his body to relax as he exhaled. Forgetting everything but the sound of his own breathing, the room and all other sounds escaped him. His mind quieted and he slept for a few minutes until a gentle pressure shook his arm.
"Dean? Get up"
"Whhhaaattt?" He stretched out annoyed and groggily. "You want to talk now?"
"No….uh.. ..Sorry, but we have a problem." Sam pointed to the live news report that had interrupted the midnight showing of The Birds.
Dean focused intently on the screen and the image of a news reporter in front of a multitude of flashing lights and police cars. The polished woman began speaking. "Again, police are not releasing the name of the person found dead at the Rayne motel tonight. Officials report that it appears that yet another mysterious death occurred sometime after midnight, when… " Sam snapped off the TV and looked at his brother.
"AAHHHHHH…SONVA… This officially sucks… We torch the bones, she gets another slob. So what in the hell is holding her here!?"
"She has to be connected to something else."
"Yeah Chris! That jackof…"
"I would call that some serious unsettled business… "
"I say we torch him… Come on, Sam, lets burn him...just this once…please." Dean laughed in his fatigue.
"DEAN!" An exaggerated eye roll soon faded into consideration.
"You're thinking about it." A twisted glee tainted Dean's humor.
"I do owe him for the lump on my head, the punch to my…."
"If he would stop running,..."
"The police… The very pissed off spirit of your girlfriend.. Sounds like a lot to run from to me."
"We'll, we are back to square one….with nothing to go on…"
"We have one thing?"
"What?"
"A license plate."
"We never saw his lic…"
"But, we got a picture of it." Sam flicked the picture Aida's mother had provided earlier "A perfect view of a couple, leaning against the back of a car, and a visible license plate."
"Oh.. Sammy.. you've been holding out of me."
"No, just noticed it…"
"Have I told you lately that I love you…"
"Dean?"
"That there's no one else above you."
"AH.. crap.."
"You fill my.."
Sam's hand clasped over Dean's mouth, creating an instant snark barrier." Enough. " He felt a smile morph under his covering hand. It lingered when he took his hand away.
"Okay…Dude, I'm exhausted… You're exhausted. We can't do anything else tonight. "
"Too little, too late."
"Sam, we tried. We can't always save everyone, even if we want to and we do have one more thing….
Sam looked oddly, thinking hard on what other lead they could possibly have.
"…Our bad guy is not a nice guy. What woman would kill herself over THAT!???… If she killed herself, why?"
"That is a question that goes unanswered a lot… no one can answer that sometimes."
"Yeah… but what if she didn't kill herself… what if she had some help."
"Who are you and where is my brother? What's up with the logic all of a sudden?!"
"I hunted without you, you know!... I just want you to feel like you contribute to this team. I mean, I'm the handsome one, the best shot…"
"The most humble!"
"The least I can do is make you feel smarter………… sometimes."
"Dean…you…"
"What?"
He scoffed, giving it up. "And I thought you were mad at me…. Geez… get some sleep. I'm going to get some wheels turning on the license plate before hitting the sack."
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Early Morning, Outside the Angel of Mercy Hospital…
A long arm jutted into a white lab coat, finding it at least a half length to short. "Dean…do you have to scam stuff that doesn't fit." The too tight shoulders of the jacket dug into Sam's armpit. "Did you get this in smurf size." Sam shifted trying to find a smidgen of room in the disguise.
"Sorry, I didn't have time to shop in the Sasquatch section." Pulling on a form fitting lab coat of his own, he smiled broadly at his brother. "Here.. I did get us some name badges."
"Dr. SAM! Dean… no one is going…." Staring in incredulity at his brother, Sam glanced at his brother's badge, expecting to see some macho version of Die Hard or Terminator name appear. "DR. Dean…man, you have got…..…are we related!? This is so not going to work…"
"Come on. We just need medical records…. Piece of cake."
"I hate when you say that." Reluctantly, he followed his overconfident brother into the hospital entrance.
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"I can't believe that worked.." Sam said as he slumped into the passenger seat of the Impala, pulling uncomfortably on the ill-fitting lab coat. "That was the biggest load of crap you have ever said and it….
"I am so damn good! I am so slick.." Dean opened the report of Aida's death, letting his brother go bask in his impressive skills, until Sam interrupted him.
"Like a weasel"
"Funny… nice one, Sammy. Why don't you click your fingers and see if we have anything, like any hits on our perp?"
"Uh… so far nothing on the fake APB on the plates. A general description was….." Sam glanced up at his quiet and defeated brother. "What…..what is it."
Dean tilted his head. "Dammit….Sam…"
"What?"
Dean looked at his brother in disgust. "Aida was pregnant and we have more problems… "
"Don't see how we can have much more."
"Our ghost….damn it…..she was an organ donor."
"Okay… that's more problems. How are we supposed to find out who receive the donation and if we do"
"Yeah… Not like we can salt and burn the living.