(no subject)

[spacebabie]

 

Chapter 6

London

 

Dean only half listened to John complaining and shouting at him to not get involved with whatever it was that Molly wanted to show him at the morgue. The only thing he focused on was the fact that there was person who had his chest clawed at and from the description she gave him it sounded like something tried to open up his chest and get to his heart and that can be a handful of things, some of them he and Sam had actually came across before. It could have been just a rabid dog, or an escaped wild animal. Then again when did he ever hear about such an attack before that was caused by something so mundane? For all he knew the victim could have been attacked by a Hell Hound.

The only problem with storming off to find out whether it was an animal or a monster or just some psycho that had attacked was the fact that Dean had no idea where he was going. Lucky for him John had followed after him and after a brief argument they had called a cab.

“Not talking?” Dean asked. He made certain to change into an outfit similar to what he saw in the news pictures online. He wore a crisp purple shirt; dark pants and that coat and blue scarf that the detective always seems to wear. He even plopped on the hat with flaps.

“No,” John answered. He had what Dean would call his bitch face.

“Do you think I can be tamed?” Dean opened the door to the cab and waited for John to get in before he scooted in next to him.

“Of course not. I just wish that once in your life you would listen to me, especially when it concerns your health.”

“Where to?” The cab driver asked.

“Saint Bart’s,” John answered without even looking at the driver. He continued to glare at Dean.

“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Dean said and leaned back in the seat.

“You always say that.”

“And?”

“And there is always something wrong with you,” John answered. The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. The man was like a faithful golden retriever puppy and seeing him smile like that caused Dean to smile. Only a second passed by before the John started to snicker and Dean couldn’t help himself but to laugh alongside him.

“Feel better?” Dean asked.

“I do,” John said with a shrug. “I think in all honesty I’m just tired of these gruesome murders. First those three that were done in by Ridgewood and now this attack. I’m just worried that by the end of the week we will hear about bodies that have their insides turned out or heads have exploded or something just as ghastly.”

“Rather just have a good old stab or bullet wound?”

“Yes. I know I know you think it’s boring.”

“Sometimes you need a little bit of mundanity in your life. It cleanses the pallet.”

-

The morgue at Saint Bart’s was very clean and white and reeked of cleansers and alcohol. There was also the scent of formaldehyde. There were cold metal tables with various equipment used to examine dead bodies. Dean was no stranger to these even though Sam was the one who tended to notice the little details first.

“It’s over here,” a female voice said.  A young woman in her early thirties approached them. She had warm brown eyes and light brown hair in a ponytail. She was smiling too much for someone who cut up corpses for a living, but she was pretty.

“Hello, Molly,” John said.

“Molly,” Dean repeated the name. He noticed the earrings in her ears. They were pricey but not too expensive. “Are those new earrings?”

“Why yes,” Molly said as her smile grew.

“How did you know?” John.

“They are very clean and have the shine and sparkle of jewelry that was recently purchased. They are real gold but a low karat. The gemstones are a cubic zirconia and by the slight pink coloring in your ears I know haven’t worn anything in your ears for weeks and you should really get that looked at.” He rubbed his head. What the hell was he saying and thinking?

“I did put on a little alcohol,” Molly said as she gingerly fingered her ears

“I think they look nice on you,” Dean said and earned a strange look from John and Molly. This Molly gal had the hots for the detective. Dean wished she was wearing something a little more revealing. He could think of something else. He walked around her and decided to focus on her rear. That was a pleasant site to look at and as he stared he could almost see the outline of her panties. She was wearing a bikini cut and they framed her backside quite nicely.

“Oh,” Molly gasped. “Thank you for liking the earrings.” She turned around to face him, still smiling. “Thank you for liking the earrings?” She placed a hand against her forehead. “I can’t believe I said that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean said. He never lost his smile which was causing her to blush.

John cleared his throat. “The body?” He was giving Dean an odd look.

“Yes the dead guy,” Dean said.

“Right here,” Molly said and pulled out a corpse and set it on one of the bare tables. There were deep bloody gouges in the man’s chest as if something was clawing at it over and over.

“Good Christ,” John said as the color drained from his face. “Who could have done that.”

“Who or what,” Dean answered. He studied the body. It was a male mid-thirties and slightly overweight. The man worked in a butcher shop from the slight bit of dried blood under his nails and he was trying to hide the fact he was married. The man also favored his left over his right…and damn it he was doing it again.

“Find anything?” Molly asked.

“Just the minor details about how he lived and that part is boring. I’m more concerned about how he died.” He grabbed a magnifying glass and studied the gouges in the chest. There was no animal hair to be found, not a single dog hair. He also remembered glimpsing out of the window of the cab and noticed the moon was full the night before. Still due to the aversion of the apocalypse or the fact that Eve had returned for a short time the rules had changed.

“Found anything?” Molly asked.

“Not yet,” Dean said and continued to look. He smiled when he found the fragment of a claw embedded in one of the ribs. Just as he had thought, werewolf. He found something else as he examined the body. There were a few threads. There was also a round bruise that wasn’t that noticeable.

“Got it,” Dean said as he used a petri dish and tweezers to fish out the threads and claw fragment. “There is also a small bruise made by the knee of whoever was forcing him down. It was made while the vic was still alive.”

“His name was Victor?” John asked. “How could you have known that?”

“Vic as in victim,” Dean answered. He glanced over at Molly and she seemed to have expected him to do something. He noticed she was also looking at the microscope. “I believe these threads belonged to the murderer.” He placed the threads on the slide and looked. “These are silk, just as I thought they could not have belonged to the victim seeing as he was a butcher and had recently gotten off work. Even if he was able to clean up and change into something else it would not seem likely that he would wear something made of silk.”

“Now all we have to do is arrest every man in town with a silk suit,” John said in a sarcastic tone.

“Not all. We just need to narrow it down to the people he knew.” Dean knew that one of them was angry at the butcher or saw him as a threat while they were still in human mode. “Now if you excuse me I just need to step out for a bit.”

-

As soon as Dean had stepped into the long hallway he grabbed his head and groaned. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t that smart. The words just spilled out of his mouth and he couldn’t stop once he was on a roll. Where was all that coming from?

There was a rustling sound, feathers rustling and it was the most beautiful sound to Dean’s ears. He looked up and saw his friend. The angel was standing only a few feet from him. He had smiled for a few seconds at first before returning to his usual devoid of all expression face.

“Hello Dean,” Cas greeted.

“Cas,” Dean said before he ran up to the angel and embraced him. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” He stepped back away from his friend

“Sam told me to go to you.”

“Where is he and Sherlock?”

“On their way to the airport,” Cas answered. He stared at Dean. “It is strange to see you in there.”

“No kidding,” Dean answered and let out a sigh. “I have to see this whenever I look in the mirror and that is not the latest.”

“You seem upset.”

“There is something wrong with my head,” Dean said and pointed at his temple. “I feel like the kid in Flight of the Navigator with all these thoughts just being beamed down in me. I was reading people. I knew all these details that most people don’t look for.”

“That’s how his brain works,” Cas said.

“Great I’m thinking with his brain. I gotta get back to my body before I cease being me and end up as him and he ends up being me.”

“It won’t work like that. He won’t have your memories or your personality. He knows what to look for. He is just not as fast as he used to and it is starting for frustrate him.”

“What are you saying, Cas?”

“Both of your ways of thinking have been merged in a way. He is relying on memories and you are using his cortex.”

“So we have the best of both worlds?” He waited for Cas to answer but the angel kept staring at the door. “Cas?”

“We are about to have company.”

A group of people had entered. There were many in uniforms that consisted of black slacks and yellow jackets that made Dean think of crossing guards and police hats. They were led by a man in a suit. Nearly everyone frowned at the sight of them and a few glanced at Cas with curiosity.

“John called us in,” the leader of the group said. He was older with graying hair. He wasn’t bad looking in an Anderson Cooper sort of way. He also was the only one not giving Dean the stink eye.

“Right,” Dean said. He had no idea who these people are and he decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut until he learned their names.

“Looks like you are no longer needed, freak,” a black woman said as she shoved past him.

“Bye now,” a man with a ridiculous hair style said. He had a smarmy expression on his face.

The older man sighed. “I will call you if I need you.” He followed after his group.

As soon as they were gone Dean turned to Cas.  He searched the angel for answers before he turned back to the room he was just in a few minutes ago.

“What just happened?”

“I am not certain,” Cas answered. “It seems a group of local authorities were called in.”

“They better not be giving John or Molly a hard time,” Dean grumbled as he glanced through one of the windows to the room. The group of officers had pooled around the dead body and the older man spoke with John while the guy with the bad haircut talked to Molly.

“They seem to be just talking,” Cas said as he also stared through the window.

“I’ve seen enough.” Dean headed back to the room.

“Is this wise?” Cas asked as he followed after Dean.

“Probably not but I want to know who they are.”

Several of the cops glared at him as he and Cas had entered. The older man and the black woman were both staring at the vic in disgust and asking similar questions that John had asked earlier about what could of done such a thing.

“I called Lestrade,” John said and pointed at the older man. “While you were getting dressed and didn’t want to listen to reason.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Dean said as he studied everyone More of those little details were flashing in his mind such as what a couple of them were eating when they were called in, how one’s shift was almost over and how another had a haircut recently, but none of them told him who these people were.

 “You ran out of the flat and didn’t bother to wait for me. I knew trying to tell you would like yelling at a brick wall”

 “Makes sense,” Dean said. “The cops should know. It is standard procedure.”

“You are suddenly concerned about standard procedure?” The woman asked.

“It was obvious he was going to call you,” Dean said.

“We’re here now,” the same smug dick with the bad hair said. He waved bye at them with one hand before pointing at the door.

“Anderson that is enough,” the older man said. “What can you tell me about the victim?”

“Well it appears to have been an animal attack of some sort,” Anderson said as he studied the body.

“Way to go, Captain Obvious,” Dean said. He looked over to Cas who just stood there. Nobody seemed to be that interested in him except for Molly who had a bit of recognition on her face for some reason.

“What kind of animal?” The older man asked.

“It looks like a large dog, or a wolf,” Anderson answered. “I don’t see anything resembling hairs, nor any bite marks.”

“There is a claw fragment and some silk threads by the by that microscope,” John pointed out.

“They were on the victim,” Dean answered.

“Silk threads?” The woman asked.

“Why do we need silk threads?” Anderson asked. “Who cares what he was wearing?”

“Not him,” Dean answered. “The culprit wore a silk shirt.”

“So it finally fizzled out,” Anderson said regaining that smug face again. “We both know it is an animal attack and you don’t need to be here anymore, so you can shove off now, you and your boyfriend.”

“I’m not his boyfriend,” John and Cas answered at the same time.

“If you take the time to look at the claw you will see it does not belong to any animal that you have come across before,” Dean answered. “The threads were found in the body and do not match what the butcher was wearing.”

“The wolf belonged to the man who wore a silk shirt?” Anderson asked.

“You are wearing a silk shirt,” the woman said.

“I don’t have a wolf, or a dog, or a cat or even a freaking hamster,” Dean said. He had no idea what anyone’s problem was. “And my shirt is purple those threads are a pale blue color. If you actually went to look then you wouldn’t be making wild accusations.”

“Of all the people to lecture us on wild accusations,” Anderson said and shook his head. “I think you did hit your head to hard and now you are off your rocker and no use to us. Good riddance if you ask me.”

Dean had enough of this Anderson. He gave him the one finger salute and earned a room full of gasps and dropped jaws.

“Sherlock!” John shouted. “What has gotten into you?”

“The use two fingers over here,” Cas said. “Crowley gave me the same gesture with two fingers once.” He lowered his head. “When we were working together.”

“Who is this?” The woman was first to recover and pointed at Cas.

“Old friend,” Dean said and placed a hand on Cas’s shoulder. “This is agent Hagar from the United States FBI.”

“I have a badge,” Cas said and pulled out the fake badge and once again to Dean’s consternation it was upside down. When the hell was he going to get it right?

“This is a little joke between us,” Dean said as he flipped the badge for his friend. From the various expressions he could tell they were buying it but Molly still had her mouth opened and she was deep in thought. One of these days he was going to have the angel practice showing his badge until he got it right all the time.

“What is your business?” Lestrade asked.

“To investigate crime on a federal level,” Castiel answered, earning a face palm from Dean.

“Is he always like this?” Lestrade asked as he stared at Dean.

“He’s always been a bit of a smart ass,” Dean said and gave Cas a look. “Tried to lighten me up.”

“A high profile murderer has left our country and came here,” Cas said. “I was hoping to work with the local authorities in apprehending them.”

“I didn’t receive any notice,” Lestrade said and crossed his arms.

“You will receive the reports soon,” Cas said. “It’s probably at your desk as we speak.”

“Then we’ll speak after I receive the report,” Lestrade told him. “I’ll speak with both of you.”

Dean got the hint. “I’ll expect your call soon.” He followed after Cas. “How did you know what to say?”

“I looked in your eyes,” Cas said.

“Sherlock,” John said as he followed after them. “Do you care to explain yourself?”

“I was expecting Agent Hagar and left to speak with him,” Dean explained.

“Not him,” John said and pointed at Cas. “No offense.”

“Why should there be?” Cas asked. “I don’t understand why.”

“Is he all right?” John asked.

“Your friend is fine,” Cas said. “Unless you were asking De—Sherlock.”

“He’s suffering from a bit of jet lag,” Dean said and nodded at Cas.

“And as for you,” John grabbed Dean by the arm. “We are going back to the flat.”

“If this is about my recent behavior I will simply inform you that my limits had been tested.” He folded his arms. “Dealing with Anderson after my accident had pushed me over the edge.”

“We are going home now,” John said as he reached for his arm. “I knew you were not ready.”

“Will you just cool it already?” Dean said as he pulled away. He looked for Cas but the angel had left.

“Cool it?” John asked. “Do you not hear yourself?”

“Yes, yes I do.  So?”

“Please Sherlock; just let me take you home.” This was painful to him. The poor man seemed to be on the verge of crying from the worry.

“Fine,” Dean said softly. He will inform John of the truth when the right time had arrived. He couldn't just bare to let him suffer anymore.

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