Sam pulled the car over in the middle of the empty road and got out, slamming his hands on the roof of the car. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and put his hands on the back of his head, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to think. He hadn't got any further with the Winchester case in weeks, even though little pieces of evidence popped up daily, his licenseplate caught on camera or the tail end of a leather jacket on a bar's cctv footage. He always tracked him down too late, all the facts adding up too late, and he was always left standing in a crimescene with witnesses giving him the same description of a dark haired, green eyed man with a leather jacket. It was Arson, a couple days ago. Seems like a burnt down a house for thekick of it. What's worst, it disturbed a hornet's nest which killed the family inside before the fire did. "He's sick.." Sam muttered under his breath, the sun beating down on the back of his head, "He's fucking sick."
He doesn't know when, but Sam managed to get himself together and drive back home, the same face blaring through his head as he did. Before he even opened the door, Jess was there, tugging at his arm and handing him the phone. "Sam, Sam!" She shoved the phone in his hand, "Your office called, and they've got him. They've got Dean." Sam felt numb, it was all he could do to talk the phone and dial the numbers, listening to the ring before someone picked up. "Sam?" Lt. Harvelle asked, a slightly rushed tone to his voice. "Yeah, yeah, it's me. What's happened?" Sam replied quickly, sitting down as Jess came over and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it re-assuredly. He smiled back up at her quickly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "We've got him. Murder in Cincinnati, Iowa. Slit a girl's throat." Sam swallowed hard, pushing the image of the smirking face and piercing green eyes out of his head. "Holding him at the station?" He asked in a low voice to which Ash replied, "No, County Jail. Hendricksen's seein' to him." That brought a little comfort to Sam, he was one of the best men they had. "Alright, I'm on my way." Sam ended the call and handed the phone to Jess, who was picking her lip with her teeth. She looked down at him and sighed, taking her hand off his shoulder. "Just go." She mumbled and ran a hand through her hand, walking away. He grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her back to his, initially moving to her lips then deciding to softly kiss her cheek. "I'm sorry I've been working late, but..but when this pyscho is caught it'll end. I promise." She nodded and smiled a little, gently brushing her fingertips along her jaw. "Go get 'em, tiger."
Being face to face with the man he'd been chasing for months was...surreal. Overwhelming. He'd seen mugshots, blurry cctv, but nothing compared to the actual article. He could see the darkness around him, the nochalant posture, the piercing green eyes that seemed to have some kind of heat, some kind of fire behind him. As Sam walked in, Dean's lips drew back across his white, pointed teeth in a smile, resting his arms behind his head and chuckling slightly. Sam tossed the file on the table which was a few inches thick, stuffed with cctv footage, mugshots, arrest warrants, criminal record, birth certificate and anything and everything he could find related to Dean.
"I assume you know why you're here." Sam said, in a professional, even tone. He sat on the chair across from Dean and templed his fingers, looking up at the other man. This made Dean laugh again. "Yeah. Your little officers caught me in the act...red handed.." Sam nodded slightly, "Murder is a serious felony, Mr Winchester, and the-.." Dean cut him off, leaning up and raising an eyebrow, "Call me Dean, sweetheart." Sam cleared his throat as his tongue came out and wet his dry lips before pursing them. "This isn't a matter to be taken lightly, Dean, and there are several other points that need discussing. Fraud.." Sam pulled out a wad of paper from the file and placed it in front of Dean, "Theft and Arson." He repeated the action, pulling out another smaller wad, "..Murder. 2 accounts of the first degree and 2 pending accounts of second." He pulled out another wad and placed it on the table, before pausing and swallowing as he pulled out the next file. "Grave dessecration." Sam stated in a clipped tone, the words feeling wrong in his mouth. Dean smirked at that, casually leafing through the papers.
"Wanna know why I do it?"
"Do what?" Sam replied, raising an eyebrow.
"The graves." That wiped the amused, if slightly irritated look off Sam's face which was replaced by a look of mild disgust. "Sure. Enlighten me."
"It really...uh" Dean paused, grinning again before leaning in close to his ear, close enough that Sam could feel his hot breath against his neck, "..turns me on."
Before Sam could reply an officer came into the room, and Sam pulled away from Dean quickly, standing up and smoothing his jacket. "Wesson, Hendricksen wants you. It's about.." The officer nodded his head in Dean's direction who gave a little wave. Sam rolled his eyes and nodded at the officer who then left shortly after delivering his message, going to leave the room. When he got to the door, he turned back and looked at Dean. "I'll be back. We still have a lot to discuss." Dean smirked and looked up at Sam, "Oh, I don't doubt we do, baby." Sam grit his teeth and turned, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean wink.
As Sam left, Dean looked up briefly at the security camera and around the room. He was handcuffed to the table, and he pulled them gently to test how far he could actually move. He scanned the room again until his eyes fell on the papers Sam had put in front of him. Files that were paperclipped together. "Ohhh thank you, rookie.." Dean breathed as he pulled the paperclip swiftly out the paper.
"He's gone?" Sam hissed down the phone, looking around the station car park, "What the hell do you mean he's gone?!" Down the phone, Hendricksen replied, "I meant he aint here. I'm not gonna repeat it twice, Wesson. This wasn't my fuck -up, so don't try and blame it on me." Sam let out a heavy sigh of exasperation as he rubbed his eyes with his fingertips, brushing his hair of his face. "Yeah, you're right. I've been chasing this guy for freakin' months and he's played Houdini on us again. Next time..next time..." Sam paused. What if there wasn't a next time. Dean knew the police were after him, hell, he even probably figured out it was Sam who was working his case. What if they couldn't find him again. "..I-I..I'll uh..I'll call you back if I find anything." Sam said quickly before hanging up, crouching down in the car park and putting his head between his knees. Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck, how the fuck did this happen! How the hell did they let him go! Sam was majorly pissed, and the only thing he wanted to do was get home to Jess. As he was driving, he rubbed his neck, still feeling the hot breath and hearing Dean's word's running through his head. He just said it to fuck with you, Sam, he thought. Don't think about it. Just don't. Sam failed miserably and ended up pulling over in a gas station, going into the restroom and jerking off angrily, one hand pressed against the wall as he worked himself, his words, his breath, his face flashing through his mind like a whirlwind. It was too fucking much.
When he'd finished, he wiped himself up and washed his hands, leaving the bathroom and half-heartedly buying a pack of gum from the tender, who was giving him a disinterested look as he gave Sam his change.
Sam drove the rest of the way home with his body pulsing with guilt, and the seed of something wrong, something so goddamn wrong growing in his stomach.