Dean was singing in the shower and the smell of bad diner coffee was wafting through the air. Sam inhaled without opening his eyes. He knew that his alarm clock was going to go off in five minutes and that another long and tedious day was laid out ahead of him. Not the kind of day that bad diner coffee can prepare you for. More like the kind of day that leaves your whole body aching, covered in sweat and craving demon blood. Sam groaned, rubbed his eyes and sat up. The shower turned off and Dean stepped from the bathroom, one towel wrapped around his waist and one wrapped around his hair like a fortune teller.
"Get a move on, Sammy."
"Did you get any breakfast with that coffee?" Sam asked as he slammed on the chiming alarm clock with one hand and reached for his shoes with the other.
"I got donuts last night," Dean replied, pulling the towel from his head and throwing it on the floor. He pulled a black T shirt from his duffel bag and yanked it over his head. "So I'm thinking that I'll check out some of the families, and you can head to the school to find some teeny boppers willing to spill about the bridge."
"These donuts look disgusting. They're all squished," Sam grabbed his sweatshirt and wandered into the kitchenette. "And I was thinking that I would talk to the families and that you would deal with the teeny boppers."
"We don't really have time to argue, Sam." Dean popped his head around the corner.
"Trust me, that's not what I'm in the mood for," He pushed open the door, ignoring the doughnuts. Dean followed behind him. "Come on, Dean, we both know that you're not the most sensitive when it comes to...anything."
"I happen to be very sensitive to the needs of grieving babes."
"Do I even want to why there's glass and...is that Boston Creme...all over the ground?" Sam grimaced at the mess, "And, grieving babes with husbands, Dean? Anyway since you're basically a child, you're more equipped to deal with high school kids. "
"Fine, but next time I get to deal with the babes." Dean smiled, spinning his keys around in his hand.
"Okay, I will drop you off at the school and you can canvas the campus and the park nearby. I'll head over to talk to our first-"
"Grieving babe?" Dean interrupted, swinging the door to the impala open and climbing inside.
"Actually I was going to say victim. Timothy and Jennifer O'Connell. Married five years, and had a baby girl named Grace. She was the first baby to disappear off the bridge this year."