Monachopsis

Chapter XXVII: Bikini Inspector Kaplan

The sign read DANE COUNTY MEMORIAL HOSPITAL. I squirmed in my freshly-ironed suit and smoothed away imaginary imperfections in my hair. My bun was tight at the back of my head, and I had to resist the urge to pull it down as we approached the building.

"Would you stop squirming?" Dean hissed as we climbed the front steps. "You're gonna get us caught."

"Not if you keep your mouth shut, I won't," I hissed back. Dean rolled his eyes and pulled two fake I.D.s from his inner jacket pocket. He kept one and handed the other to Sam. I reached into my jacket and touched the inside, feeling the reassuring bulk of my I.D.

As Dean opened the doors, Sam squawked suddenly in protest. "Dude, dude, I am not using this I.D."

"Why not?" Dean demanded.

"Because it says 'Bikini Inspector' on it!"

I had to cover my mouth with my arm to keep from snorting.

Dean grinned. "Don't worry, she won't look that close, alright? Hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence, Sammy."

And with that, Dean spun him around to meet the nurse at the front desk. I bit back a smile, hurrying past him and dodging the pleading look he threw me. I strayed a few inches from Dean's side--just enough to give an air of vague recognition. At the front desk, Sam and gotten into character.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Jerry Kaplan, Center for Disease Control," he announced to the nurse.

The nurse paused, then said, "Can I see some I.D.?"

Dean stifled a laugh. I did a better job at concealing my amusement, biting my lip and calming my giggles to a slight tremor in my shoulders. Sam glared at us.

"Yeah, of course," he told the nurse. He flashed the I.D. just long enough for her to glimpse the name, then pulled it away. "Now, could you direct me to the pediatrics ward, please?"

The nurse nodded. "Okay, just go down that hall, turn left, up the stairs. You'll see them."

"Right, thank  you." Sam turned away from the desk, pinning us down with an annoyed glare as he approached.

Dean spread his arms out in triumph. "See? Told you it would work."

Sam didn't return his shit-eating grin. "Follow me. It's upstairs."

He led us silently through the hospital, his irritation tensing his shoulders. I followed behind quickly, the sterile environment of the hospital making me queasy. The strong scent of antiseptic and sickly-sweet sickness permeated the air, burning my nostrils. I tried breathing through my mouth, taking comfort in Sam and Dean's warmth acting like a barrier against the chill. It was because of my dependence on my brothers' warmth that I noticed that Dean was no longer behind me.

I frowned and paused, turning around to look for him. We had been passing through what looked like a residential ward; rooms with numbers and names lined either side of the hallway. A quick glimpse around told me they were likely for long-term residence that couldn't leave the hospital. Dean was standing further down the hall, frozen, staring into the doorway of a open room. His face was scrunched in suspicion.

I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, but Sam's voice beat me to it. "Dean."

Dean turned, startled out of his stupor. I raised my eyebrows at him. His eyes skated over me and Sam, seemed to realize that he'd fallen behind, and caught up.

"What happened?" I asked, my voice hushed.

Dean shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

I wasn't satisfied, but I knew I couldn't force him to tell me. I shrugged. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him sneaking one last glance over his shoulder.