Impossibly Possible.

1

[Edited]

TW for suicide!

Dean lay, sprawled out on the cheap, dirty motel mattress. You'd think he would be used to the horrible motel rooms, and their uncomfortable beds, but he wasn't. He hated spending all his nights in cheap rooms with no service and expensive in suite food and drinks. At least the constant take-out was never a bother. He didn't complain about the frequent burger joints and Chinese food, though it probably wasn't good for his health. Dean loved when his nights ended with a burger and a beer. He did wish that this room had air conditioning though, the summer heat left the room hot and clammy. It was the hottest the summer had gotten and their newest case was in Laughlin, Nevada, a city already usually hot as it was.

"Why are we here Sam? Couldn't have picked anywhere else that was a little less... oh I don't know.. scorching hot?" Dean asked, his voice whiny as he complained. Sam just rolled his eyes and dropped them to look back at his laptop, continuing to type.

"There are a string of suicides here, but they don't seem like suicides at all. A group of teenage girls all started to kill themselves one by one. They were all friends, and the parents of the remaining three girls alive are terrified. The reports seem odd because not one of them ever showed signs of being depressed, and none of them have any history of anything that could cause these type of actions. I thought we should check it out, it doesn't seem normal." Sam explained, yawning and shaking his shirt to try and let some cool air refresh his hot sweaty skin. Sam lets his shirt go and looked as though he was thinking hard about something. "Plus, you need to start looking for them and why not start now?" Sam said teasingly, but his tone grew more serious as the sentence came to a close.

"For fucks sake, shut up Sammy. I don't need a soulmate, if I did I think they would've showed up in my life by now. How about you? You still haven't found yours, don't be a hypocrite." Dean shot back with an attitude, wrapping his hand around his wrist. The name that was mysteriously inked on him since his sixteenth birthday was a puzzle to everyone including himself. Every person in the world got the first and last names of their soulmate written on their wrists, it often made it quite easy to find your destined partner, but both Sam and Dean were the only recorded exceptions. They didn't have last names on their wrists.

"I've been trying since I turned sixteen, but no 'Gabriel' I've met has ever had my name on their skin. I've never seen you even try to find her." Sam replied, becoming annoyed at his brothers asshole comment. Sam turned his wrist over, staring at the single name, written in a nice font. He let out a heavy sigh before looking away.

"Who needs a soulmate when you have lots of chicks at bars?" Dean said with a smirk, closing his eyes and imagining all the desperate drunk girls he could get if he spent the night out. He hoped his soulmate was at least beautiful, if he ever did find her, the least she could be was pretty. Sam just rolled his eyes at his brother and pulled his sleeve over the dark name.

"Okay, we should go question the parents of the first one that died, we won't get anywhere just sitting around here." Sam suggested, changing the topic.

"Yeah sure, just let me get changed and we can go." Dean grumbled, getting up and walking to his duffel bag of clothes.

"Try something that is a little pastor like." Sam said, suggesting the identities that Dean hated most. Nonetheless he grabbed the carefully packaged outfit and slipped into the bathroom, whispering profanities under his breath.

Dean started into the mirror, looking distastefully at his reflection. He hated this part of the job most. When he left the washroom, Sam had already changed and had combed his stupid hair back. They both looked stupid, but this was the best way to talk to people like this family.