8
White and Red All Over
"Alright Sam," Patrick said, sitting down in front of him. "Are you gonna tell me what's goin' on because the guy next door, I'll tell you." He shook his head.
"Yeah," Sam chuckled. "He does that sometimes."
"So," Patrick sighed. "What happened, Sam?"
"Nothing," Sam said truthfully. "We got to the hotel last night, checked in, and I was asleep within ten minutes. The next thing I knew, the police were kicking the door in."
"Well, Sam, here's how my colleagues see it. You and your brother have been either near, or at the scene of two of the three people who have been murdered. That doesn't register as a coincidence, Sam, so unless you can come up with another solution I'm afraid both you and your brother will be pinned for these," he explained. Sam knew what he was doing, he was trying to get a confession or confirm a denial.
"Look… Dean… Dean told you about the ghosts and stuff, right?" He asked, hardly able to believe he was saying this to a cop.
"Yes," Patrick said, straightening up a little.
"Dean and I…we, we take care of that sort of thing. We…we kill ghosts."
"So," that amused smile spread its way across his face. "You two are like, the Ghostbusters?"
"I know how stupid it sounds," Sam assured. "Trust me, I know. And I know that you probably think we need to be committed or something. But… we can prove it to you."
"How so?"
"We can get the murders to stop. You just have to let us out of here so we can do our job," he said. "I know that it's against every regulation you guys have to do that, especially if you run our names, but trust me. We can make this stop."
Patrick stared at him for a moment, contemplating. After a long pause, he said: "What will I find if we run your names through the system?"
"That Dean and I died in an explosion two years ago after being arrested for first degree murder and accessory to murder," he mumbled, looking guilty.
"And I take it that you and Dean were innocent of those charges?" Patrick asked.
"Yes."
"Of course." Patrick looked at him for another beat. "How do I know you won't bolt as soon as we let you out of here?"
"If we're not guilty of anything, why would we run?" Sam challenged. Another lapse of silence.
"Alright, I want to know everything you know about this case," he said. "And I want to know what steps you'll take to make sure it stops."
"It's either a shapeshifter that gets off on people seeing loved ones or a cursed object being passed around from person to person," he explained. "Shapeshifters always have some sort of vice, like money, or love, and judging by the EMF levels it could be one of them. And if it's a cursed object we have to get and destroy that object. Then again, it could be a supernatural virus."
"So, what's this EMF thingy?" He asked.
"Electromagnetic Frequencies," Sam said.
"Alright. Now, I take it Shapeshifters can turn into anyone or anything they want, right?" He asked, basing his knowledge on things he had heard in movies.
"Within reason, yes."
"And this cursed object could be anything?"
"Anything that was significant enough to a person to be cursed," he amended.
"Right. And if it happens to be a supernatural virus, how does all of that work, exactly?"
"A supernatural virus effects everyone of a certain type. In this case, it's people who've lost relatives or close friends and have some sort of guilt about it." Patrick winced internally. That sounded familiar, almost eerily familiar.
No, no that couldn't be the explanation for what he was seeing. He didn't have a connection to the other victims. He hadn't been to the same places or anything of that nature to connect them in any way. But then again, this wasn't a usual subject to have a logical explanation…
"How do I know that you and your brother just stopped killing after this?" He asked. Sam chewed his lip.
"What if I could prove that all of this was real, would you believe me then?" He asked, still unable to believe that he was doing this.
"If you can prove it then go ahead," Patrick said, leaning back, looking expectant.
"I…I need to see Castiel," he said. Patrick frowned.
"Sam I know that you aren't lying to me, and I know you that you believe wholeheartedly that all of this is true, but I don't know if I can go along with the rest of this," he said firmly.
"I know you don't believe me. I know that all of this makes no sense to you, but I can prove all of it, I just need to see Castiel to do it," Sam explained.
Patrick stared at him for a beat. "Alright, Sam," he said, standing. "But remember that if you try anything there are several people with guns around here." Sam nodded.
"I won't. I don't have a death wish."
They stepped out of the room, walking past Dean to get to where Castiel was.
"Sam, what-?"
"I'm gonna get us out of here," Sam said quietly, shutting the door before he could say anything else.
Castiel looked up at the two of them when they came in, his face unreadable.
"Is there something wrong?" He asked.
"Cas, I need you to do me a favor," Sam said, walking toward him. Patrick watched curiously. "I need you to take us somewhere, anywhere with a ghost or something that isn't that dangerous."
"Sam, it's hard for me to get myself from place to place, let alone two other people," he glanced over Sam's shoulder at Patrick. "But I'll do it."
"Thank you," Sam said, backing up.
Castiel stepped toward them. Patrick looked at Sam uneasily.
"Hold still," was all the warning Castiel gave before placing his fingers on Patrick and Sam's foreheads.
Patrick blinked, and when he opened his eyes again he was in the middle of a jungle.
-Gasp!-