Heaven and Hell - Book 1, Castiel Fanfic

4.06 Yellow Fever - part 1

(Your POV)

Dean, Sam and I follow the coroner into the morgue, seeing him open a body bag. "Agent Tyler, Agent Rose and Agent Perry, meet Frank O'Brien." He says, pointing at the dead body. "He died of a heart attack, right?" I ask, eyeing his body for any unusual marks.

"Three days ago." The coroner says. "But O'Brien was 44 years old and, according to this a marathon runner." Sam says confused, looking over the chart. "Everybody drops dead sooner or later. It's why I got job security." The coroner says, making me cringe at him.

"Yeah, but Frank kicked it here. Now, just yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in Maumee. All heart attacks, you don't think that's strange?" Dean asks. "Sounds like Maumee's problem to me. Why's the FBI give a damn, anyway?" the coroner asks suspiciously.

"We just want to see the results of Frank's autopsy." I say to him, seeing him frown at me. "What autopsy?" he asks me confused. "The one you're gonna do." Dean answers matter-of-factly. Coroner cuts open the dead body and I cringe again.

"First dead body?" he asks, seeing the look on both Dean and my face. "Far from it." Dean says. "Oh, good. Because these suckers can get pretty ripe. Hey, hand me those rib cutters, would you?" the coroner asks Dean. Sam takes a fortifying breath while Dean picks up the cutters and hands it to the Coroner. The Coroner then cuts the ribs open, while I keep myself from squirming.

"Is that from a wedding ring? I didn't think Frank was married." Dean asks. "Ain't my department." The coroner says, shrugging his shoulders. "Any idea how he got these?" I ask, picking up Franks arm, which is full of scratches. I show it to my brothers, who eye it as well.

"You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop. Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground." The coroner explains. "Huh!" he then says confused. "What?" Sam asks. "I-I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries." The coroner says confused, making me frown. While the coroner breaks off the heart, I can see Dean trying not to vomit.

"Heart looks pretty damn healthy." He says again, handing me the heart to hold. "Hold that a second, would you?" he asks, making me look at the heart with disgust. I can see Dean and Sam smirking next to me, earning a death glare from me.

"And... could you hold this for a minute?" the coroner asks Dean, handing him another organ. I smirk his way when I see him holding back his gagging. Karma truly is a bitch. He cuts something else in the body, making blood splash out and onto Sam's face. "Oh, sorry. Spleen juice." He says, making me now smirk at Sam as well.

...

Sam, Dean and I are sitting down in front of a Deputy's desk, waiting. The deputy smiles at me, which I kindly return. He then looks over at Dean, who has seen him smile at me. Dean is looking at him unamused, which makes his smile immediately fall from his face. The Sheriff then opens his office door.

"Hell's bells, Linus, have you seen my.... Who are they?" the Sheriff asks, looking over at us. We stand up and wait to be invited into his office. "Federal agents. I, uh...." the deputy says nervously. "And you kept them waiting?" the sheriff asks in disbelief. "You, you said not to disturb." The deputy says confused.

"Come on back, Agents." He says, motioning for us to follow him before sending his deputy an angry look. We walk over to Sheriff's office, but he stops us at the door. "Shoes off." He says, making me frown at him. We take our shoes off and walk into the Sheriff's office, Sam and I sitting down on the chairs and Dean standing behind us.

"Al Britton. Good to meet you." He says, shaking our hands. "You too." Sam says. "I'm sorry that I don't have another chair for you." He says to Dean, who smiles at him. "That's ok, I'm good." He says, nodding Al's way. Sheriff takes out alcohol gel and starts slathering his hands. The second he opens the bottle, I hear a sound that I can't quite place. I shrug it off and look over to Dean, who has a weird look on his face.