"So, Sam. You are looking less undead than your records would suggest"
Sam blinked. Looked up from the desk. "Pardon me? Dead?"
"Burned up, while being transferred for questioning. Sam Winchester and his brother Dean" Camilla put another stack of files down, next to the rest. "Before you lie to me, like you did to that sweet kid, Dexter. Please remember. I have the power of all the knowledge of the Miami police department at my fingertips and a sturdy umbrella that will never be used to stop rain"
Sam took a breath and sighed. He put his hands on the desk. "Who did you call?"
"Not George, Paul or John. Nor any of the officers in the next room" She watched him squirm "What are you researching?"
"What? Not who?" Sam re-assessed the clerk in front of him. "There is something the regular law can't handle. We are here to stop it and save some innocents. Good guys, I swear"
"My Gene likes to say, that someone who asks for help for others, is worth giving the benefit of the doubt"
"Sounds like a wise man"
Camella tapped the top file "Paper record. Missing person. March 1st 2000."
"Thank you ma'am"
"Leave it on the desk, when you leave"
Sam opened the folder and nodded.
"You're bleeding"
"It's what happens when you get kicked in the hole"
Deb smirked and let out a little laugh.
"Bullet hole." Dean rolled his eyes. He pulled his jacket and shirt to the side, to check his shoulder. "You ever been shot?" he drew in a sharp breath as he moved in the wrong way.
"No" Deb thought for a second "How many times have you been shot?"
Dean's face scrunched up. Mentally counting the scars. "Never really counted"
"You got to have a magic number. One? Two? Many? Lots?"
"Somewhere south of many. North of lots. Have to get back to you on that. I'll send a text"
"Who put that one in?"
"Fed. Possessed and dead at the time."