"You expect me to believe you're CDC?" The doctor asked us after the boys and I showed him our CDC badges. "Excuse me?" I said, confused. "It's just that you're a day early. First time in history I haven't sat on my ass waiting for you people." the doctor said. "New administration. A change you can believe in." Dean said. "Right." the doctor said before she leads us to the morgue.
Once there, the doctor pulls the corpse of Mr Xavier out of a freezer, who looks like a dead eighty-year-old. "Meet Xavier. Date of birth, April third, nineteen eighty-four." she said and the boys and I exchange confused glances with her.
"I know. I ran the DNA twice. That's definitely him." She said, as if reading our thoughts. "Well, he wasn't big on the sunscreen, huh?" Dean jokes. "So, what's your theory?" Sam asked. "All I know is, decedent's male, twenty-five years old and he died of old age." the doctor said before she walks away.
"You were right about this one. It's definitely a job." I said to Bobby in my phone as we leave the hospital. "Thought so. Any other stiffs in town?" Bobby asked me. "Just the one body." I said. "Anything else?" Bobby asked. "Couple missing persons, but usual for a town this size." I said. "Well, check 'em out." Bobby said.
"You think they're connected?" I asked him as we get to the Impala. "Call it a hunch." Bobby said. "You got it. And, by the way, how you doing?" I asked him. "Doing?" Bobby asked, confused. "Yeah. You know, just...in general?" I said. "Oh, you mean my legs. Well, I'm just weepin' in my Haagen-Dazs. Idjit." Bobby said, with harsh sarcasm, before he hangs up. I roll my eyes and put my phone away.
Dean sits on an ottoman, looking at a framed photo of an old man, Cliff Whitlow, while Sam and I sit in a couple of armchairs and Mrs. Whitlow sits on the sofa. "That's the most recent." she tells us as Dean hands the photo to Sam and I look at the picture over his shoulder.
The photo is of Cliff as a golf tournament champion, Miami Palms June 2009, holding a golf club and trophy. A USMC tattoo is visible on his right arm. "How long has he been missing?" I asked her. "Oh, I knew right away when he didn't come home Tuesday night." Mrs Whitlow said.
"Is there someplace he likes to go after work, maybe? A favorite bar?" Dean asked and she laughs. "No. Tuesdays, he always works a bit late, but he always comes straight home." She tells us. "May I use your facilities, ma'am?" I asked, getting an idea.
I enter the office, looking back over my shoulder, and head over the desk. I scoop up a pile of papers off the desk and rifle the rest of the desk and the pockets of Cliff's coat.
I pull out a receipt and look at it: it's for Madame Liu's Golden Palace and it totals over $250. "Working late my ass." I grumble.
That night, the boys and I walk along the corridor of the Golden Palace. "Well, at least he's consistent. Same room every Tuesday, hourly rates." Sam said. "Hope I got that kind of kick when I'm his age." Dean said and I shake my head. "Yeah, like either of us will live that long." I said. "True." Dean said and he and I share a look.
"So...what do you think's in there?" Sam asked. "A wrinkly, gooey corpse." Dean said as we stop outside room 44. Sam pulls out his lockpick kit and selects two while Dean and I keep watch. A man starts shouting inside the room. "Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh! Oh, God!"
The boys and I look at each other and slam the door open. "Hey! What the—" the man exclaimed. He is bed, naked, with a woman who is barely dressed.
"Oh." Sam said.
"God." Dean mutters as another woman comes out from under the covers.
"Awkward." I mutteres. "It's gooey." Sam said as both women flee the bed. "Sorry. Uh, got the wrong room." Dean said. "Close the door!" the man shouts and we start to leave but Sam stops and stares at the man.
YOU ARE READING
Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)
Fanfiction(Y/n) (l/n) was trained by her father, who was a well-known monster hunter before he settled for the apple-pie life, after the death of her mother when she was very young. Now in the wake of her father's death, (y/n) has been going solo on the whole...
