Chapter 52

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It's A Terrible Life

After removing his tie, Dean was rebuttoning his shirt as I sat atop his desk, legs crossed. A knock on the open door made me look over. 

Sam stood there.

"Come on in. Shut the door." Dean told him.

I'd heard those words many times in the last three weeks but in a much different situation.

Sam did as he was told.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked. 

Sam scoffed. "I'm not sure I know."

"What the hell does that mean?" 

"Sam Wesson. I started here three weeks ago." He stated. 

"Alright, you cornered us in the elevator, talking about ghosts." Dean began.

"You make it sound like he pinned us to the wall and forced information out of us." I spoke up. 

Dean gave me a look. "And now..."

"Now what?" Sam asked. 

"Now, nothing. I, uh..." Dean trailed off, moving across the room. "So you started working here three weeks ago, huh?  Me too. I think Si did too. Right?"

"Yep." I nodded my head, smiling at the nickname.

Dean moved back toward the desk, sitting down with a thermos of water--or I think it's water--that was tinted a odd pinkish/yellow color. "It's the Master Cleanse. You tried it? Phenomenal. Detoxes you like nobody's business."

"Not in a million years." I muttered. 

"When you were in that bathroom with Ian...did you see something?" Sam asked.

"Define something. It's a bathroom. Many horrifying things could happen." I said.

"I don't know. I don't know what I saw." Dean admitted. 

"Wait. Are you saying--? Did you see a ghost?" Sam asked.

"Like Casper? Was he cute? Because Casper was an adorable little ghost. " I asked. 

"I was freaking out. The guy penciled his damn neck." Dean shook his head. 

"You did, didn't you?" Sam sighed. "Okay, listen. What if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if they're not something not natural?"

"Supernatural...?" I suggested.  

"So, what, ghosts are real?" Dean asked. "And they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here? Is that what you're telling me?"

"I know it sounds crazy." Sam sat down in one of the two chairs on the other side of Dean's desk. "But yes. That's what I'm telling you."

"Uh-huh. Based on what?"

Sam was quiet for a few minutes. "Instinct."

"Really?" I asked. 

"I've got the same instinct." Dean admitted. 

"Cool, so we're just natural born ghost hunters?" I asked. "Like the Ghostbusters or something."

"Seriously?" Sam asked. "You know those dreams I was telling you about? I was dreaming about ghosts. And then it turns out there's a real ghost." 

"I had similar dreams. Ghosts, vampires, werewolves." I listed. 

"So you're telling me that your dreams are special visions and you're some kind of psychic?" Dean asked, looking between us. 

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