"One more time, the FBI is here, why exactly?"
We had gotten to the police station and now the officer we were talking to was being difficult, not really giving us his full attention. I gave a huff of frustration, rolling my eyes again as Dean explained for the ump-teenth time since arriving.
"Might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off," he practically growled.
"Bill Randolph died from a bear attack," the officer pointed out.
"How sure are you that it was a bear?" Sam asked.
"What else could it be?"
"Well, whatever it was," I began, "it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his fronts door, followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom. Is that common, a bear doing all that?"
"Depends how pissed off it is, I guess," the officer shrugged. "Look, the Randolphs live way up in high country. You got trout runs to make a grown man weep. And bears."
"Right," Dean nodded. "Now, what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing."
"Yes, she did. My heart goes out to that poor woman."
"She said bear," I stated, looking for confirmation.
"Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She's confused."
"What did she say?" Sam asked.
⁘
We were sitting at a table in an interview room across from Kathy Randolph.
"No, it must have been a bear," she insisted when we asked her about the attack. "I mean, what else could it have been?"
"Mrs. Randolph, what do you think it was?" I asked her gently.
"No, I, I remember clearly now. It was definitely a bear."
"We're sure it was," Dean nodded. "But see, it helps us to hear every angle. So just tell us what you thought you saw."
"It's impossible, but... I could have sworn I saw... the Incredible Hulk."
I blinked, but other than that gave no emotion away on my face.
"The Incredible Hulk," Sam repeated.
"I told you it was crazy," Kathy shook her head.
"Bana or Norton?" Dean asked.
"Oh, no, those movies were terrible," Kathy scoffed. "The TV Hulk."
"Lou Ferrigno," I stated.
"Yes," she nodded.
"Spiky-hair Lou Ferrigno," Dean added.
"Yes," Mrs. Randolph repeated.
"Huh," Dean sat back looking over at me.
"You think I'm crazy."
"No. Uh, no, it's just... is there, uh, would there be any reason that Lou Ferrigno, the Incredible Hulk, would have a grudge against your husband?"
"No."
"No," Dean repeated.
⁘
Turns out, Mr. Randolph had anger issues, or in other words, 'you wouldn't like him when he's angry.' Sam went to the house and looked at the crime scene. He said there was a giant, Hulk-sized hole where the front door used to be. And he found something else- candy wrappers. Which, of course, added up to one person:
"Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill 'em- we're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?" Dean asked.
"Sure looks like it," Sam confirmed.
"Good. I've been wanting to gank that mother since Mystery Spot."
Dean shut the laptop with a snap. I furrowed my brow, remembering a particular moment of that particular case...
Sam and Dean were talking about something while Sam looked stuff up on his laptop and Dean ate. I was looking over at the counter at the Pancake Man, who was having strawberry syrup on his pancakes instead of maple like usual. As I stared, a giant pair of white fluffy wings suddenly appeared on his back, but when I blinked again, they'd vanished...
"You sure?" Sam asked Dean, his voice snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Yeah, I'm sure," Dean nodded.
"No, I mean are you sure you wanna kill him?"
"Son of a bitch didn't think twice about icing me a thousand times," Dean pointed out.
"No, I know, I mean, I'm just saying-" Sam stammered.
"What are you saying? If you don't want to kill him, then what?"
"Talk to him?"
"What?"
"Think about it, Dean. He's one of the most powerful creatures we've ever met. Maybe we can use him."
"For what?"
"Okay, Trickster's like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song- maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates this angel and demons stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us."
Another memory, more recent, came into my mind...
Raphael was already standing in the middle of the room when Cass, Dean and I arrived. There was a flash of lightning and he spread his pair of large, fluffy white wings, the shadow displaying on the back wall. Overhead, the lightbulbs popped and exploded...
In the car, I mentioned the fact that Raphael had white wings as opposed to the usual black I'd come to associate with the angels.
"He's an archangel," came Cass's quiet reply.
"How are we gonna find the guy, anyway?" Dean was asking Sam.
"Well, he never takes just one victim, right?" Sam pointed out. "He'll show."
⁘
Later, while listening to the police scanner and getting some wooden stakes ready, a call came through that sounded weird enough to be the Trickster. When we arrived at the warehouse, however, there were no police cars or anybody else around. Dean pulled three stakes and some flashlights out of the trunk, handing one of them off to Sam and I before leading the way inside, clutching his own in his hand.
When we walked through the door, Sam and Dean were suddenly wearing white lab coats and I was in a nurse's scrubs.
"What the hell?" I demanded.
A blonde doctor and an Asian doctor, Dr. Wang, passed by us.
"Doctor."
"Doctor."
They each greeted Sam and Dean before continuing on.
"Doctor?" Sam repeated in a more questioning tone.
Dean turned around, opening the door we just came through. Instead of outside, it lead to a janitor's closet where a couple were making out. Dean immediately closed the door, a freaked out expression crossing his features. A brunette doctor, who looked a lot like Dr. Piccolo from Dr. Sexy, MD when I thought about it, turned away from the receptionist's desk and approached us.
"Doctor," she greeted, then slapped Sam across the face.
"Ow!" he cried, clutching his cheek.
"Seriously," she said.
"What?"
"Seriously? You're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. A brilliant coward."
Dean and I were gaping at her while Sam just looked confused as to what the hell was going on.
"Um. What are you talking about?" he asked her.
She slapped him again.
"As if you don't know!"
With that, she stalked off, Dean and I both gawking after her.
"I don't believe this," Dean grinned.
"What?" Sam asked.
"That's Dr. Piccolo," I said.
"Who?"
"Dr. Ellen Piccolo," Dean elaborated in a dreamy voice, "the sexy, yet earnest doctor at-"
He paused, looking at the sign behind the receptionist's desk, gesturing almost angrily as he read aloud.
"Seattle Mercy Hospital."
"Guys. What the hell are you talking about?" Sam demanded.
"The doctor getups. The, the sexy interns. The 'seriously's. It all makes sense."
Sam just stared at me and Dean, waiting for us to get to the punchline.
"What makes sense? What's going on?"
"We're in Dr. Sexy, MD," Dean and I chorused.