"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.
"Hey." He said and I turn and notice that the man has a USMC tattoo that looks exactly like Cliff Whitlow's. "Nice tattoo." Sam said as he goes back into the room. "Happen to know anybody named Cliff Whitlow?" Sam asked the man. He shakes his head. "Never heard of him." the man said.
"Well, that's weird." Sam said and he pulls an ID out of the wallet that was apparently in the man's pants. "'Cause you're carrying his wallet." Sam said as Dean goes over to the bed and yanks up the covers to look underneath. "Huh." Dean said as he drops the sheets. "Your wife told us about your, uh, birthmark there. That's nice. Well, you look great. Cliff. Did you get some work done?" Dean asked and Cliff shakes his head and sighs.
"Could you give us some privacy?" Cliff asked the two women, who are now robed. Cliff goes to put on a robe and hands them some money and they leave. "Please don't tell my wife." Cliff pleads to us as he shuts the door. "Slow down." I said to him. "I'm begging you. As far as she knows, I'm dead. For the love of God, let's keep it that way." he pleads to us.
"How can you possibly be Cliff Whitlow?" Dean asked him. "I can't tell you." Cliff said. "Well, either you tell us or we tell the missus." I said, folding my arms across my chest. "Okay! Okay! It was a game." Cliff said, panicked. "Like...XBox?" Sam asked, confused. "What's XBox? No. Poker. High stakes. Instead of cash, you play for years." Cliff said.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Dean asked. "Look, I know it sounds crazy. Guy comes up to me at a bar, invites me to play. Gives me twenty-five of these weirdo poker chips, right? Chants some mumbo humbo over them, says now they're twenty-five years. I'm laughing, but then I come out up. And look at me." Cliff said. "What was he chanting?" Sam asked and Cliff laughs.
"How should I know? All I know is, my bad hip's good, I threw away my glasses. One of those ladies was here for free! Man's some kind of miracle worker." Cliff said. "What does this miracle worker look like?" I asked. "Just a guy. Maybe thirty-five, brown hair. Irish accent. His name was Patrick." Cliff said.
"All right, all right. Where's this game at?" Dean asked him. "He said he likes to keep moving. Never stays in one bar long. And he finds you." Cliff said. "Thank you, Cliff." Dean said and we head for the door but Dean stops and turns to Cliff. "Oh, and, uh...stay classy." he said and we leave.
"It sounds crazy, right?" Dean said to Bobby over the phone as we get into the Impala, phone was on speaker so Sam and I could hear. "No. There's lore on it. Goes back centuries. Traveling card player pops into town. You beat him, you get your best years back. 'Course, most folks lose." Bobby said. "Well, that would explain the crunchy corpse." Dean said.
"Supposedly, this player's a hell of a card shark. Got a lot of years in the bank. You find the bar he's working in yet?" Bobby asked. "There's a lot of dives in this town. We're gonna have to split up." Dean said. "Well, why you still talking to me?" Bobby growls and he hangs up and Dean shuts his phone.
After looking around at some bars and not finding anything, Sam and I met up and I call Dean. "Find anything?" I asked him once he answered. "Yeah, a whole bunch of squat. You?" he asked me. "No, not a thing. Sam also didn't come up with anything." I said.
"All right. Well, you come up dry, circle back to the motel in two. Your turn to grab dinner." Dean said and I laugh, lightly. "Let me guess, your usual with extra bacon?" I said and Dean chuckles. "You know me so well." Dean said and I smile before I hang up.
I turn to Sam. "Hungry?" I asked him and he smiles. "Starving." He said and I gesture for him to follow me and we go to a nearby fast food place.
We got into the restaurant, ordered our food and waited for it. As we waited, Sam was looking over at the little play place this restaurant had for young kids. The sounds of kids screaming, talking and running around as they climb into the jungle gym or slide down the slide.
"You know, I kinda miss having that innocence." Sam said and I nod. "Yeah, having not a care in the world and not worry about monsters and demons..." I said. "Or the end of the world." Sam said and I nod. "Especially, that." I said. "All you worried about was homework and what the next new toy was gonna be." I said.
"Then it gets crazy as teenagers." Sam said and I giggle and nod. "Oh, God, yeah. Hormones are the worse. So confusing when your body was changing. And getting interested in dating." I said and Sam laughs. "Yeah, I remember getting so nervous around girls and kissing." Sam said and I give him a playful look. "What? You weren't nervous when you kissed me." I said and Sam groans.
"Oh, God, you had to bring that up. We were kids!" He said and I laugh. "I still remember when you asked me. You were like I just...want to see what's it like." I said, doing a high pitch voice mimicking Sam. "Hey, you were the only person I trusted and I remember you were just as curious." Sam said and I laugh. "Oh, I'm not denying it. But it is funny to kinda look back on. Especially after we shared that kiss and both of us agreed that it was weird." I said.
"Yeah..." he said and I stare at him and he has the oh, crap look on his face. "I-I-I mean, you weren't bad, it was just....weird kissing you...I mean..." Sam stammers, in a panic, and I laugh. "Sam, it's okay. I get it." I said as I pat his arm, he lets out a soft chuckle and we share a smile. "Besides, I get to say I've gotten to kiss both the Winchester Brothers." I said and Sam shakes his head. "Yeah, I'll bet." He laughs. "It's on my resume. Hard-working, Always on time, got to kiss the Winchester Brothers." I said and we laugh.
"But we both agree to never tell Dean." Sam said. "Oh yeah, definitely." I said just as our order number was called out.
Later, we make it to the motel and Sam opens it and we enter, Sam was carrying the sodas as I carried the bag of food and we put it on the table. "Hey, Dean? You find anything?" Sam called out. "Uh, you might say." an unfamiliar raspy voice replied.
Startled, Sam and I turn and draw our guns, aiming at this old man in a bathrobe. He had short white hair and he looked about maybe sixty or seventy years old. "Who the hell are you!?" I asked the old man as he raised his hands. "Guys, relax. It's me." he said and I furrow my brow while Sam lowers his gun.
"Dean?" Sam said, confused, and I look over at him then over at the old man, confused. "Hi." Dean said and my jaw drops as I lower my gun. "What the hell happened?" I asked him, shocked. "I, you know...found the game." Dean replied as he heads for the food and picks up a burger.
"You f—I thought you said you were g-good at poker." Sam exclaimed. "I am. Shut up." Dean grumbles then he gestures to us. "So, you two were just gonna shoot some old guy? Is that it?" Dean asked and I make a noise of disbelief. "We didn't know what you were. I mean, have you seen you? You look like—" I said, shocked.
"The old chick in Titanic. I know. Shut up." Dean said, his mouth full of the burger. "I was gonna say the Crypt Keeper." I said and Dean glares at me. "I would've said Emperor Palpatine." Sam said as a door thuds open and Bobby rolls in.
"I see you two met John McCain there." Bobby said, nodding towards Dean. "Yeah. Either of you want to tell us what happened?" Sam asked, still just as shocked as me. "Bobby's an idiot. That's what happened." Dean said. "Hey, nobody asked you to play." Bobby yells then the two began to argue.
"Right. I should have just let you die." Dean said. "And for damn sure, nobody asked you to lose!" Bobby said and Sam looks over at me and smiles. "It's like Grumpy Old Men." he said and I stifle a laugh just as both Bobby and Dean turn to him. "Shut up, Sam." they said, in unison, then they turn to each other and continue to argue.
"What the hell were you thinking? He's a witch. He's been playing poker since guys wore tights." Dean said to Bobby. "You just don't get it." Bobby growls. "Yeah, I get it, Bobby. You saw a chance to turn the hands of the clock back and get out of that damn chair. Pretty tempting. I can imagine." said Dean. "No, you can't." Bobby growls. "You got me. I never been paralyzed. But I tell you something—I've been to hell, and there's an archangel there wanting me to drop the soap. Look at me! My junk's rustier than yours! You hear me bellyaching? Huh?" Dean yells at him. "Uh, actually, yeah." I said then Dean places a hand on his chest.
"Oh!" Dean groans and he sits down, still holding his burger. "I'm having a heart attack." he said and Sam looks worried while I go over to Dean. "No, you're not." Bobby said. "What is it?" Dean asked as I kneel next to his seat and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Acid reflux. Guys your age can't digest certain foods. You're gonna need to put down that cheeseburger." Bobby said. Dean sighs and puts down the burger.
"So, you want to keep emoting, or you want to talk about solving this little issue of yours? It's got to be about the chips." Bobby said. "I slid 'em across, Patrick did his little witchy number, and you prettied up in a hurry." Dean said. "I mean, what are you all thinking? Some kind of magic chips or something?" Sam asked. "Definitely." Bobby said as Sam sits down.
"You remember what he chanted?" Dean asked Bobby. "Yep—every word." Bobby said. "All right, then let's find out where he stashes his chips." I said. "And steal me fifty. Benjamin Button me back into burger shape. What do you think?" Dean asked and I look at the bathrobe he was wearing. "I think you ought to put some clothes on." I said to him.
Later, there was a knock at the door and Dean, who now is fully dressed, goes to answer the door. A young maid, with a cart and an armful of towels, standing at the door. "Ready for housekeeping, sir?" she asked. "Yes, ma'am." Dean said as Sam and I walk up next to Dean.
"You ready?" I asked him and the housekeeper smiled at us. "It's so nice to see you and your boyfriend take your grandpa out on the town." She said, nodding at me and Sam, and Dean looks at her, offended, while I hold back a laugh. "Oh, yeah, it's great." Sam said, trying not to laugh as well. "But watch out, he'll try to flirt with you." I said to her as I pat Dean's arm and she laughs.
"Oh, that's like my grandfather. He hits on anything that moves, too." she said as she heads past us and Dean glares at me and Sam while we stifle our laugh. "Yeah, he's a handful." I said and the housekeeper giggles and I look at Bobby, who was smiling as well, then I look back at Dean. "Can we just go?" He asked us, annoyed.
Bobby, Dean, Sam and I sit in Bobby's van and watch people go by. The witch guy, Patrick, comes out of a building then he checks his watch and crosses the street without looking, noticing too late that a car is coming: it slams right into him. The driver gets out and checks his injuries then he runs over to a construction crew nearby.
"Guys, get some help! He came out of nowhere! Right out in front of me!" he yells and the boys and I all stare at this when another car drives by, Patrick in the driver's seat. The driver and the construction workers look between him and where Patrick got hit by the driver's car.
Dean laughs. "I got to say, I kind of like the guy." he said.
We followed Patrick to an apartment building then we watch him leave the building, get in his car, and drive off. The boys and I exchange looks, none of us could believe our luck and we get out of the truck. We get to the building and Dean holds the door open while Sam rolls Bobby inside, I follow close behind. Sam then let Bobby roll himself until he stops and sighs.
"Well, I'm out." Bobby said and I look over and see a sign on the elevator that reads ELEVATOR OUT OF ORDER SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE. Sam and I look at it, then at Bobby, and both of us sigh.
Minutes later, Sam and I jog up a flight of stairs with no difficulty. We stop at the landing to see Dean walking up one step at a time. "Dean." Sam said as he points to a sign with a large 2. Dean sighs and Sam and I continue up the stairs.
Sam and I leave the stairwell but I stop and wait for a few minutes as Dean, eventually, makes it up the stairs, breathing hard. "C'mon, you old fart." I teased and he glares at me again. "Don't give me that look, this is your fault." I said. "Technically...it's..Bobby's." Dean said, in between breathes. "Good point, both of you were being stupid." I scolded and I turn and walk down the hallway.
We come up to the door of room 3701 and Sam sorts through his lockpicks. He then picks the lock and opens it, the three of us enter. We look around the nice room until Dean said. "Guys?"
Sam and I go over to see that he had opened an armoire with a false back, where there was a safe. "Dime-store model. Piece of cake." Dean said and he turns the dial, squinting and leans in and out, obviously the numbers are too blurred for him to read.
"It's like Mission: Pathetic. Watch out." Sam said and he pushes Dean out of the way and turns the dial: it opens quickly. There are quite a few poker chips in the safe. "I could have done that." Dean grumbles. "Honey, by the time you would've gotten to it, Sam and I would have reached old age as well." I said as Sam starts to grab handfuls of chips.
"What are you doing?" A female voice asked and we turn around to see a dark blonde haired woman, wearing a black dress and a large silver locket. "Aren't you the chick from the bar?" Dean asked her. "I'm a lot more than that." she said and she throws up a hand, clenches a fist, and twists. Dean doubles over. "Dean!" I said, worried, as Patrick hurries up and puts a hand on the girl's arm.
"It's all right, sweetheart. It's all right. They're harmless." He said to her and the girl lets Dean go while Patrick steps forward to us. "You three want chips? Take 'em. They're just chips, Einsteins. It's showmanship. This may come as a shock, but the magic does not lie in a pile of crappy plywood or in any phony abracadabra. It's in the nine-hundred-year-old witch. You three want years? Score 'em the old-fashioned way. Texas hold 'em." He explains as he chews on his toothpick.
"Fine. Let's do it." Dean demands and Patrick pulls a card out of a pocket. It's the eight of hearts. "What card am I holding up?" he asked and Dean squints at it and doesn't answer. "That's what I thought. If your eyesight's that bad, what about your memory? I'm not a murderer. You two, on the other hand..." Patrick said as he looks at me and Sam, Dean turns to us.
"No, guys." Dean said, in a warning tone.
"Dean." Sam and I said, exasperated.
"What, these two not much of a player? Okay, well, happy trails, Dean. Enjoy the twilight of your life. Should have taken better care of that ticker, though." Patrick said and he opens the door. "You're free to go." he said and Dean leaves, Sam and I follow.
"Oh, but, you two..." Patrick said and we turn as he points at me and Sam. "Your brother's situation—that's punishment enough, but I can't let you leave without a small parting gift." He said then he claps three times.
"What are you doing?" I asked him, confused. "You two'll find out soon enough." Patrick said. "Let's get out of here, guys." Dean said and we leave, he-witch closes the door behind us.
We head for the outside door when I noticed Sam scratching the inside of his thighs. At that moment, I felt a painful feeling in my lower stomach area, a pretty familiar feeling that I experience once a month.
I place my hand over my lower stomach as Sam opens the door for us and he scratches some more. "Dude..." Dean said to Sam, who turns to him. "I believe that he-witch gave you the clap." Dean said and Sam goes stiff at this then marches off.
Dean laughs and he turns to me, noticing me clutching my lower stomach. "What did he give you, princess?" Dean asked and I glare at him. "Cramps. Really bad one. So, if you want to live long enough to de-age, I'd suggest you shut up." I growled at him and I walk away.