Monachopsis

Chapter LIX: Sherlock Holmes, Eat Your Heart Out

Sam and I, through luck of the draw, ended up at the health center. Getting in the door and to a table was no trouble, and the nurse who greeted us was more than happy to get us the documents we needed.

She brought the last stack of birth certificates to us, smiling, and said, "Here you go, officers."

Sam gave her a polite nod. "Thank you."

As she walked away, I flipped open a new folder and read out the name on the certificate. "Powell, Robert. He'll be six months in two days."

Sam scribbled down the information in his notebook. I switched to another file and read it to him. "Hanks, Kristina. Turns six months this coming weekend." I wrinkled my nose and murmured, "What kind of asshole names their kid Kristina with a K? Bunch of sadists."

The folder slapped into the pile of folders we'd already gone through. I sighed and pulled another manila folder in front of me.

Sam looked up from his journal and said, "So you...uh...you knew Pastor Jim?"

The question surprised me. I glanced up at him, searching his face for any clue as to what he was getting at. His pen bounced against the page of his notebook nervously.

"...Yes?" I said, uncertain. "Like I said, he used to watch me while Mom went out on hunting trips. Not too often; I saw him maybe three times in five years. He was good guy, though. He's the one who taught me how to use a knife."

A nostalgic smile ghosted across Sam's face as he watched me. "Yeah. No, I was just..." He trailed off. I raised my eyebrows, prompting him to continue. "I just thought it was funny that all of us grew up with him. You know, being Dad's kids and all. Seems too deliberate to be a coincidence, don't you think?"

I set down my folder, biting my lip. "What, are you saying Dad had something to do with it? Why would he do something like that?"

Sam shook his head, looking bewildered. He sighed, "Honestly, I don't know what to think. About any of this: Jim, this demon, these families. None of it makes any sense."

I wince sympathetically and reach across the table to squeeze his arm. "I know. Trust me, I do. But the sooner we kill this bastard, the sooner we can forget about it. Deal?"

Sam twists his arm in my grasp, flipping it over so he can squeeze me back. He gives me a small, grateful smile. "Yeah...yeah, that sounds good."

I smile. I pull my arm away from him and pick up the next folder. "Lawrence, Conner. Turns six months in four days."

It took more than an hour to go through all the records. For such a small county, Salvation had a lot of babies. It twisted my stomach to think that this demon was going to go after one of them. Dean had taken the car to the hospital, but he called just as we were leaving, saying that he was almost done and he would be on his way to get us in the next thirty minutes. 

The image of me and Sam waiting outside the clinic like children waiting to be picked up from school rose unbidden in my mind. I fought a smile as Sam and I slowly walked through the doors. Sam was absorbed in his journal, staring down at the names of all the children we'd found. His face was scrunched in thought, his lips moving silently as he muttered to himself. 

I slipped ahead of him, making for a wooden bench by the sidewalk. After so much time spent sitting since we left Manning, I wasn't too eager to it down again, but the thought of just standing around while we waited for Dean to show up already made my feet ache.

I was halfway to the bench when I realized I didn't hear Sam's footsteps behind me. I turned to look for him, and found his standing a few yards behind me. He was wincing, covering his eyes with a hand.