A/N: Hello again, my readers! Just wanted to send a great big THANK YOU to my reviewers and the people who've added this fic to their fav list. Coming out fast wit these now, but chapt. 6 will be up in a couple days, and chapt 7, I'm hoping by the end of the week. Cross your fingers for me!
Chapter Five: Information
"I'm sorry?" Sam asked, having not caught what Dr. Bridge had just said.
"Oh, I was just saying that normally, we recommend that you call an ambulance in these types of situations," Dr. Bridge repeated, "Trained medical personnel know how to transport a person with spinal injuries or internal bleeding, which can easily occur in an accident like this. The layman doesn't know how to treat those injuries, and if they try to, they can even make it worse. This was a very lucky case." She turned to him and smiled sheepishly. "There, I've made my speech. But if you want my honest opinion, I think you two saved that young man's life. Those neck injuries penetrated his carotid artery; if you hadn't found him or if you had waited, he would have died."
Sam and Dean were appreciative of the compliment, but Dean was getting anxious. They had to use this opportunity to get information. If they needed a lead on where their vampire hung out, an ER doctor who worked the night shift was an excellent start. He hoped that Sam would quit looking all broody and get down to business.
Reading his brother's 'get on with it' expression, Sam asked "Have you had anything like that in here before?"
"Car accidents? Well, never one this miraculously fortunate."
Sam and Dean exchanged a look. There wasn't much of a chance that she'd misunderstood the question. She was covering.
"His name's Scott Meeson by the way," Dr. Bridge went on as she continued to carefully stitch up Dean, "We found his college ID on him. He's twenty-four." She turned back to Dean. "Almost done, I promise."
"So, he'll be okay?" Sam asked concernedly.
Dr. Bridge nodded. "He should be. The blood loss was major, but we got him in time. You must've done some impressive driving to get him here." Dean wished that he could smile. He gave Sam a very proud look.
"Done," Dr. Bridge announced.
"Ah, finally," Dean breathed appreciatively.
"And I was looking forward to a few more minutes of quiet," Sam remarked, feigning a wistful look.
"Ha, ha," Dean replied sarcastically as he picked up a mirror from the nearby table and examined his reflection. His face still showed plenty of damage from the scuffle on the street, marred with blood and grime. Though. his chin looked all right because had been cleaned for the stitches. But the bruises looked pretty ugly. "I look like I've been through hell," he stated solemnly. But then he grinned. "And I'm still the prettiest man on the planet!"
Sam smirked, but then it faded as a thought occurred to him. He turned concernedly to Dr. Bridge, who was putting away her tools. "Uh…how much is this going to cost?" he asked, worry etched over his face. They'd already given their real names; the stolen insurance and credit card scam wouldn't work this time. How were they going to pay? They had a very basic budget: food, gas, hotel room. An emergency room hospital bill would leave them scavenging for food in dumpsters while they slept in the out-of-commission Impala.
Dr. Bridge winked. "On the house this time, I think," she said conspiratorially.
Sam breathed in relief. Damn, he wished he was in Canada. Free health care would certainly come in handy in their line of work. Then again, it wasn't the best place to be during werewolf season. Sam nearly slapped himself after that particular thought. His flame of hatred of how he'd been raised flared up again. Why couldn't he just think of Canada as America Jr., like any normal person?
"So you two are…?" Dr. Bridge looked over at the two of them with polite inquiry.
"Brothers," Dean finished as he checked his hair in the mirror.
The initial look on Dr. Bridge's face was rather comical, but she instantly recovered, masking most of what looked like total surprise. "Oh. Brothers…right, of course."
Dean wanted to know just what exactly they could have been otherwise. But then he recalled him 'prettiest man' comment and decided, as he quickly put the back mirror down, that ignorance was a wonderful bliss in this case. "So, I guess working the night shift, you see some pretty weird stuff come in," he said casually, trying to ease back into the conversation Sam had tried to start earlier.
"Oh, yes. Some of them are tragic, others a little amusing. And some, well, they can be just downright disturbing."
Dean and Sam's eyes met. They were making some progress.
"Disturbing how?" Sam asked, trying to sound casual.
Dr. Bridge opened her mouth to reply, but then she raised an eyebrow, looking from Dean to Sam. "Why are you two so interested?"
Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Though they spoke no words, there was definitely a conversation going on. 'Say something!' 'You say something!' 'Like what?' 'Anything!'
Luckily, the two were saved from any real fumble when the door opened. In walked a young woman with red hair pulled back, wearing black pants with matching sweater and a blue shirt. She looked quite pleased with herself. Sam glanced to his brother and did not miss the quick raise and lower of the eyebrows. He could see Dean mentally calculating the quickest possible way to get the woman's clothes off. That was really the only kind of math Dean was any good at, Sam realized with a snicker.
But, alas, her gaze went right past both Dean and Sam and settled on Dr. Bridge, who looked rather perturbed to see her.
"Dr. Bridge?" the woman asked expectantly as she quickly walked over. Dean caught a whiff of her perfume as she walked past.
"Mmm…honeysuckle," he said jokingly under his breath to Sam.
Sam returned the comment with a quick punch on the shoulder. "Focus…." Dean could be 'play boy' later. The hunt came first.
Dean took notice of just how nicely the woman's ass fit into her pants. "I'm more focused now than I've all night, I promise."
The conversation between the two Winchesters was, fortunately for them, not overheard by either of the two ladies. The young woman approached eagerly, looking rather aggressively friendly, whereas Dr. Bridge looked very cold and unwelcoming.
"Doctor, I'm Nikki Wales with the Chicago Sun," the woman introduced, holding out her hand.
Dr. Bridge did not take it. "I know who you are. How did you get back here?" Her angry face and accusatory tone made her look like a mother whose son had come home from the prom with a hooker.
Nikki Wales' cheerful façade immediately disappeared, replaced with one of smugness. "I've been hospitalized for exhaustion," she explained, putting on a frail air. "My editor's idea, I can assure you."
"I'm sure you can," Dr. Bridge replied coldly.
Nikki continued, ignoring the comment. "It's probably from going out at night for these past few weeks. Though those incidents at the Drake Hotel did distract my paper for a while, we've returned to a far more important story."
"You're not in it for the charity, Miss Wales. You're in this for the glory," Dr. Bridge stated bluntly.
"Dr. Bridge, does it really matter? We all want the same thing," Nikki said, trying to be persuasive in a more business-like manner. "I want the exclusive cover of the arrest and trial of an insane killer. You want to make space in your morgue. We help catch him and everyone wins."
Sounds like our guy, Dean thought at the mention of 'insane killer'. Dean and Sam had made a silent decision to just hang back and listen. It seemed best, especially given the catfight that seemed about to ensue.
Dr. Bridge looked appalled by Nikki Wales' assessment of the situation. "Get out, Miss Wales. Before I call security."
Nikki responded by giving the doctor a cheeky look, but still she turned on her heel and marched out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
"What was that all about?" Dean asked, turning to Dr. Bridge, who was pinching the bridge of her nose.
The older woman looked like she was trying to hold back a hurricane of fury. She sighed heavily and crossed her arms over her chest. "Nikki Wales….is a disgusting human being." Her face looked apologetic, but her tone wasn't. "And she seems to have gotten even more so since…" She paused, looking at the brothers suspiciously.
"Since what, Dr. Bridge?" Sam asked, trying to be polite.
"Never mind," she replied, trying to wave the matter aside, "It's not important." She took a deep breath, apparently still angered by Nikki Wales's presence. She regained some of her normally calm and friendly composure and turned to Dean. "Well, you'll need to get your stitches removed in two weeks. But if you want, you can leave for tonight."
"Actually…" Sam started.
"Thank you," Dean said sincerely, cutting Sam off. They weren't going to get anything out of her, not now anyway. They'd have to try later, when she wasn't distracted by her anger at Nikki Wales. He gave a winning smile as he left, Sam following.
But before Sam left, he turned and asked Dr. Bridge, "What room is Scott Meeson staying in?" He gave a sheepish grin. "We'd kind of like to apologize…"
"Three-oh-four," Dr. Bridge replied with an understanding smile. She had calmed down considerably, but Sam could still sense the rage bubbling beneath the surface. "But I don't think you'll have to do much apologizing. He'll probably be thanking you."
Out in the hall, Sam shrugged his shoulders at Dean. "Okay, now what?"
Dean held out an open palm. "First, money."
Sam begrudgingly dug into his pocket and fished out a ratty five dollar bill. He held it out to his brother, who snatched it up complacently. Dean never forgot a bet, especially if Sam owed it.
"Okay, Moneybags, now what do you think we should do?" Sam asked, glad to break Dean out of his haughty reverie.
Dean paused. "I'm thinking what we need is someone who knows what's going on around here. I'm thinking we need someone who knows the city and has contacts." Sam rolled his eyes. He saw where this was going. "I think what we need is to go find that Nikki Wales chick." Dean grinned as he added, "And, if you want to stay here instead, Sam, I completely understand. In fact, if it's necessary, I'll go talk to her myself."
Sam nodded, letting Dean kid around, but wanting to get serious. "You actually believe she can help us out?"
"Well, in all honesty, Sammy, I do." Dean replied as they started walking down the hall. "Think about it: she knows about previous attacks, knows the city. We make her a deal: she gives us information and we give her every single detail of hunting down our guy."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Who is a vampire."
"Yup."
"Who doesn't show up on film."
"Yup."
"And will turn into dust when we kill him."
"Uh huh."
"And will therefore leave no evidence behind for Nikki Wales, leaving her with a crazy story about a vampire running around downtown Chicago."
"Bingo."
Sam smirked. "Dean, you're a genius."
Dean smirked back. "And I didn't even need to go to college."