Hells Bells

Death Takes a Holiday

"Yeah, no no no, you're right. Definitely worth looking into. Alright Bobby, bye." Sam sat at the table as Dean and I tried to get the juke box to work.

"What the hell." Dean hit it again before sitting back down with Sam. "What'd Bobby want?"

"Something in Wyoming." Sam typed on his laptop.

"Job? Thank you." The waitress gave Dean and I our food.

"Maybe. Small town, nobody's died in the past week and a half." Sam slowly read.

"So unusual?" Dean chewed.

"One guy with terminal cancer strolls right out of the hospital, another guy gets capped by a mugger walks away without a scratch." Sam listed.

"Cap in the ass?" Dean asked and I almost spit out my drink.

"Authorities say Mr. Jenkins was shot in the heart at point blank range with a nine millimeter." Sam read.

"And he's not a doughnut?"

"Locals are saying it's miracle." Sam closed his laptop. "It's gotta be something nasty right? People making deals or something."

"You think?" Dean finished up his burger.

"What else would it be?"

"I don't know." Dean shrugged, slurping his drink.

"Okay, let's go." Sam picked up his bag.

"I'm not done." I stopped him.

"Bring it with you." Dean chugged his drink, standing up.

I picked the burger up in one hand, shoving fries in my pockets with the other.

"Oh gross." Dean slapped some bills on the table.

"This is the first real meal we've had in weeks." I followed him out.

We went to talk to Mr. Jenkins from there, see what he remembered.

"You guys said you're bloggers?"

"Yes sir, flooredbythelord.com." Sam smiled.

"All of God's Glory, fit to blog." Dean flashed a cheesy grin.

"Some of the people around town are saying that what happened to you was a miracle." Sam began the 'interview'.

"Yes, plain as day." Jim nodded.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked.

"How else do you explain it? The doctors can't. There's a bullet in my heart, and it's pumping like a piston." He held his hands together.

"Well, how do you explain it?" Dean asked.

Jim looked back at his kids playing in the other room. "Look, honestly, I was nobody's saint. Not exactly father of the year, either. But when that guy shot me and I didn't bleed a drop? I just knew the lord was giving me a second chance."

"Is that so?" Dean smiled.

"I had this feeling like angels were watching over me. I wouldn't expect you guys to understand." He leaned back in his seat.

Sam and I both looked at Dean, who's face had dropped. "Well, we'll just have to try." Dean faked another smile.

"You wouldn't have happened to swung by a crossroads in the past week or so?" Sam asked.

"No." He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Or maybe you met someone, with black eyes? Or red." Sam continued.