Author's Note: A third chapter this week... I'm awesome, right? Just kidding. You guys are awesome for reading this. I want to thank new21writer, emebalia, Eliza Ghost, BranchSuper, jokergirl94, GoForTehGig, Meggin Lane, NewbieOnTheBlock, Julefor, and Wunjo for their wonderful reviews. Your support means a lot to me.

Chapter Three: Story of the Halloween Pumpkin

Dean parked the Impala in the hospital parking lot and got out of the car, making sure that he had his fake ID in his jacket. Shoving his car keys into his jeans pocket, the hunter started walking towards the large white building. Sam caught up with him a moment later.

"I don't understand how people can believe that you're FBI when you're dressed like that." The younger brother commented, gesturing at Dean's denim pants, black t-shirt, and leather jacket.

"Dude, don't you watch TV? The criminal profilers never dress in suit and ties."

"Dean, that's television. You can't base your cover off of fictional characters."

"Why not? It's not like anyone we talk to has ever met real profilers. You're just pissed because you got all dressed up and I'm still comfortable." Dean grinned at his brother, but then put on a more serious expression as they entered the hospital. The clothes they wore were not as important as how the conducted themselves.

Dean walked up to the courtesy desk and flashed a brilliant smile at the older woman who was sitting there.

"Excuse me ma'am, but I was hoping that you could let me know what room Michael Norton is in?"

"Certainly, young man. One moment, please." The woman typed something on her keyboard, and then trailed her index finger across the screen, obviously reading the information. "Room one forty-six."

"Thank you." Dean nodded and turned to walk to the elevators.

"You're welcome." The woman responded. "Have a lovely day."

The brothers got into the elevator and Dean swatted the taller man's hand away so that he could push the button before Sam could. Sam shot him a 'could you be more childish?' look, which Dean responded to with a rather smug smirk.

Once the doors opened, the Winchesters stepped out and, after looking at the signs with arrows that directed people to the correct rooms, they walked down the hall to room one forty-six. Inside, they found a pretty blonde woman sitting by the hospital bed while a young boy played with matchbox cars on the floor. Lying on the bed, hooked up to IVs and monitor equipment, was a man in his mid-thirties. The dark haired man looked for all the world as if he were just taking a nap. The woman looked up when they entered.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes. Are you Mrs. Sherrie Norton?"

"Yes."

"I'm with the FBI's criminal profiling division and I'd like to ask you a few questions." Dean explained as he showed her his badge.

"If you're here to ask if my comatose husband had anything to do with the murder of his alcoholic ass of a friend, you can show yourselves right back out."

"No ma'am, we don't think he's involved at all." Dean quickly assured her.

"My daddy didn't kill anyone." The little boy spoke up. "It was probably the Halloween pumpkin."

"Timmy, that's enough." Sherrie's words were firm but her tone was soft. The boy bit his lip and looked down at his lap. His mom let out a sigh. "Sorry. He's a bit upset."

"Completely understandable." Dean replied. "Do the doctors know what's wrong with your husband?"

"They are pretending they do, but they have no clue. They just keep spewing out medical terms and saying to 'wait and see'. But what are you guys really here about?" Sherrie asked.

"We wanted to ask a few questions about your husband's friend." Sam answered.

"He was a drunken bastard. Mike tried to see the best in him, but that guy was a complete jerk. And I'll tell you one other thing. I'm almost positive that he beat his wife and kids." She was about to continue when she looked over at Timmy. "I can't talk about this in front of him."

"May I?" Dean nodded with his head towards the door.

Sherrie seemed unsure for a moment but then, apparently deciding that she could trust a federal agent, nodded.

"C'mon buddy, let's go get something from the vending machines. I'm starving."

"You just wanna get me outta the room so your friend can talk to my mommy about the dead guy. I already heard about the blood and stuff so there's no reason that I should go."

"Well, my friend is just going to ask a lot of boring stuff and I'm a lot more fun than he is, so let's go."

"Can I have a candy bar?"

Dean glanced at Sherrie who once again nodded. "Sure you can."

"Okay." Timmy got up and shoved one of his toy cars into his pocket. Then he took Dean's hand and they walked out of the room.

A ride down to the ground floor in the elevator (and Dean let Timmy push the buttons) led the duo to a cafeteria where they both selected a candy and a soda from the machines. Once they were sitting down, Dean popped a peanut M&M into his mouth and started up a conversation.

"You know, there's a reason I wanted to get you out of that room besides the whole avoiding grown up talk stuff."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I wanted to ask you some questions."

The boy looked confused. "But I didn't know Daddy's friend too well."

"Actually, I wanted to ask you about the Halloween pumpkin."

"I didn't make it up." The child protested.

"I never said you did. I just want to know why you think it killed your daddy's friend."

"I don't know if it did that, but I do know that it hurt Daddy."

"Did you see it hurt him?"

"No." Timmy confessed. "But when I found Daddy on the floor, it was on our coffee table. It wasn't the one that Mommy bought for me. I snuck that one into my room at night 'cause it was cool. But this one was already carved with a face. It was smiling but the smile wasn't happy looking. It was a little creepy. Like the smile the boy at school gave me before he punched me and stole my baseball hat."

Talking to the boy reminded Dean somewhat painfully of his interaction with Ben just weeks before. Timmy was younger but there were a few similarities. Dean mentally shook himself. Now was not the time to think about 'could've beens'.

"Is that why you think the pumpkin did it?"

"Well, yeah. That's it." Timmy averted his gaze to stare down at his Milky Way candy bar.

"Hey, you can tell me."

"You won't believe me."

"Try me."

"Not even Mommy believes me."

"Do I look like mommy to you?"

The child laughed. "No."

"Then?"

"Okay. The first night that Daddy was in here, Mommy and I went home late and went to sleep. I got up to pee and saw a light coming from the living room. It was flickering, kinda like a candle. So I went in and the light went off, but then I remembered the pumpkin and I turned on the lamp. It was sitting on the table still. I didn't like it 'cause it was so creepy and I got scared. And I'm not a sissy or nothing, I can watch scary movies without getting scared. So I took it over to the window, and threw it outside. It fell all the way down. I went back to sleep, but the next morning it was on the coffee table again."

"Did it still look the same?" Dean inquired.

"Yeah."

"Did you try to get rid of it again?"

"I kicked it across the room yesterday and it didn't break. And every time I look away from it and then look back, it turns around to face me. Mommy says I'm making it all up, but I'm not."

"I believe you." Dean assured him.

"You do?"

"Absolutely."

"Can you help me? That's what the FBI does, right? They help people."

"Tell you what. While you are here with you parents, my partner and I will go to your house and take that Halloween pumpkin away."

"Really?" Timmy exclaimed.

"Yep."

"Thank you!" The small boy jumped up from his chair and threw his arms around Dean's middle. Dean hugged the child back.

When they got back to Mike's hospital room, Sam was just finishing up.

"Thank you so much for your time." He said as he shook the woman's hand.

A young nurse who had been attending to the patient walked past Dean and gave him a rather flirtatious smile that the hunter readily returned.

Timmy ran to his father's bed and climbed up next to the comatose man.

Dean and Sam walked out. As they made their way down the hall, the nurse from Mike's room walked up to them. She was tall, thin, and leggy, with long red hair that was pulled up tightly in a ponytail. She addressed them both, but her eyes lingered on Dean.

"Um, I overheard that you're with the FBI. Are you here about the coma patients?"

"Patients? As in plural?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah. Both Mr. Norton and Mr. Boothby were brought in within the last week and a half suffering from unexplainable coma-like states. I asked the doctors to call in some experts but they've refused. I'm afraid it may be some contagion or something." She looked around quickly. "Look, I don't want to get in trouble. Can we talk in a few hours when I get off my shift?"

"Sure, I'd love that." Dean handed her a fake business card with his cell number printed on it. "Just give me a call."

"Okay." She agreed.

Dean watched as she hurried off. Then he and Sam got in the elevator to discuss what they'd learned.

…

…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural...supernatural…

…

Jill Griffin went back to her rounds. She was looking forward to seeing the federal agents later on. And not just to express her concerns about her patients' mysterious ailment. They were both really good looking, especially the shorter one. And he seemed to appreciate her looks as well.

Just then, her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She took it out and looked at the screen. It was her mom. Her mom had been a little sick the past few weeks and Jill assumed the worst. She knew that she wasn't supposed to take personal calls while on shift, but this really couldn't wait. She replaced the device, and then made sure that her supervisor wasn't watching before she left her assigned section.

Jill ran down the fire stairs and out the backdoor that led to the dumpsters. It locked automatically, so she pulled her nurse's smock that she wore over her dark red tank top off and stuffed it in the door so that it would remain open. She took her phone out once more and was about to call her mother back when she saw a soft glow coming from in between a dumpster and the hospital wall. Curious, she walked over and looked down. There, on top of a full trash bag, was a lit jack o'lantern.

Fearful that the trash around it might catch fire, Jill squatted down and took off the top of the carved pumpkin. She blew on the flame and it went out. No sooner had she replaced the stem portion of the pumpkin, than the fire sprang back to life.

Jill stood up and took a few steps back. She turned to run back inside, phone call completely forgotten, and bumped into someone. When she looked up at him, she opened her mouth to let out a terrified scream, but his hand grabbed her forehead and she found that she had no voice to cry out with. Pain seared in her temples and she felt tears run from her eyes, and then all went black.

Author's Note Part Two: Hope you all enjoyed. Please, please, please take just a moment and leave a review to let me know what you think. The more reviews I get, the more peanut M&Ms Dean gets...