Chapter 2

‘thoughts’

Warnings: gore

Swinging his arms forward and back repeatedly to warm up his muscles as he headed into the hospital, Sam whistled quietly, feeling refreshed after a good night's sleep. He hadn't stayed out long and had even thought of taking a very pretty brunette that he had been talking to some of the time there to bed, but he hadn't. In truth, he was more worried about his brother, so had decided an early night was what the doctor had ordered. So, refreshed and clean, he strolled into the hospital, taking the time to grab the local newspaper and some coffee as well as a couple of doughnuts, which he knew his brother would probably welcome gladly after a day of hospital food.

Sipping his own latte, he hummed as he walked along the halls to his brother's room and waved at the nurse who was behind the desk when he recognized her from the other day. But he was stopped by her summons just as he passed the desk. "Mr. Robinson?"

Turning, he smiled in confusion. "Yea? Is something wrong?" he asked as the nurse came over. He noted her nametag and tilted his head. "Did my brother hit on you, Kimber?"

She flushed and waved a hand while replying. "Yea, but that's not what I needed to talk to you about. Your brother might not respond too well this morning. He was drunk last night."

"What? How?" Sam asked in shock as he stared at her. A brief flash of his brother at the bar crossed his mind and he scowled. "I thought he was in his room!"

"He was. But someone must have slipped him some alcohol. He had a bad reaction with his meds, but he should be ok once he's slept it off. It's just so you know that he won't be responding too well," Kimber explained with a reassuring smile. "The doctor's already warned him not to drink anymore while he's on his medication and we were told to inform you as well."

"You mean lay into me. I'm so sorry...I don't know how it happened," Sam replied with a sigh.

She frowned as she reached up and picked at a nearby patient folder. "So it wasn't you? I wonder who it was. Anyways, you can go. Just be warned," she reminded him before going back behind the desk.

"Yea thanks. And sorry about that," Sam responded distractedly while he resumed his trek to his brother's room. Dean had been drunk?! What the hell! When he had called the other night, Dean had sounded fine. But come to think of it...he had seen Dean at the bar. Or he thought he had. He'd just brushed it off as delusions from fatigue because he knew that Dean had been not in shape enough to even lift a glass much less hit a bar and go home with a hot babe.

His thoughts were deeply ensconced in these ruminations as he went into his brother's room and saw the invalid known as Dean. He cocked an eyebrow as Dean glanced at him groggily before covering his face again with an IVed arm. "Dude, do me a favor please and shut those damn blinds..." he asked roughly, which surprised Sam. Dean was *never* this polite when he was sober, much less hung-over!

But he obliged and, after placing his coffee and doughnut offerings on the table tray, he closed the blinds and then brought over the nearby chair to the bedside. "Brought you some doughnuts and coffee," he stated with a gesture to the tray before he brought it closer to Dean.

"Bless you..." Dean whispered in gratitude, which earned another blink of surprise from Sam. He grabbed the cup that Sam hadn't taken and sipped it blissfully, sighing happily as he relaxed into the pillows. "They fucked up my meds somehow, but it's ok...they didn't mean it," he muttered briefly in explanation and Sam stared at him.

"They say you got drunk...when did you get alcohol?" Sam demanded as he leaned back in his chair.

"What alcohol? After you left, I slept...or tried to. It was too noisy, so I watched TV and had dinner, and then suddenly, I was piss ass drunk and having some kind of seizure, not sure. They blamed me for it, but I swear, Sam...I never touched a drink. Just ate this god awful food they serve here," Dean responded grouchily then sighed. "Sorry...thanks for the coffee...and is that custard filled?" he asked hopefully as he eyed the two doughnuts.

"Yea, one's custard for you and the other is crème for me," Sam replied in bemusement and watched as Dean grabbed the custard-filled doughnut and bit into it hungrily. 'Seems the affects of the hangover are wearing off quickly,' he thought as he sipped his own coffee before reaching for his doughnut. He bit into it, savoring the creamy filling as it oozed into his mouth before he focused on chewing the large mouthful. He looked over as he heard Dean ask him something. "Mmph?"

Rolling his eyes as he grinned, Dean held up the folded newspaper. "Did you take care of things?" he repeated and nodded when Sam did before opening the newspaper and turning to the comics section.

Sam's hand stopped midair to taking another bite as he saw the picture of the blonde that had gone home with what looked like Dean the other night on the front page. He reached over and grabbed the paper, ignoring Dean's protest, and stared at the headline.

Girl found shot and mutilated in her home.

Reading on, Sam felt the blood drain from his face as he read the article.

The body of twenty-three year old Carine Sotan was found in her home at 9:30 this morning by her sister, Gina Narm, who was going to be going shopping with Sotan. Sotan was found in her bed naked with her hands tied above her head and signs of sexual activity having been participated in. Her body had been carved with several symbols and had three military precise shots in her head, heart, and abdomen. No signs of rape have been determined yet. Investigators are still uncertain as to the meaning of the symbols, but it has been determined that the killer had been known to her as there were no signs of breaking and entering...

Unable to read anymore, Sam put the paper down and pinched the bridge of his nose. That girl had gone home with someone who looked exactly like Dean. Was it another shape shifter? They were already having enough problems with the police and FBI being on their tails, but now this had to happen where any number of witnesses could place Dean as the suspect.

"Sam? What's wrong? Who's this girl to you?"

Dean's gentle inquiries broke through Sam's racing thoughts and he looked up into the clear gaze that was focused on him. "She...she's someone I saw at the bar I went to last night. I saw who she went home with and..." He stopped and stood up abruptly to pace to the window and look out. "I think I better look into this," he murmured lowly and knew that it was the right decision. If only for the symbols alone on her body he had to investigate. That...and make sure it didn't lead to Dean.

He turned and saw Dean reading the article while chewing on his lower lip and frowning in confusion. "Dean." His soft inquiry broke through his brother's study and forced him to look up.

“Sam...why do you need to look into this? It’s just a murder...” Dean asked gently as he tapped the paper. He rubbed his own eyes then and sipped his coffee again. “Must be losin’ it...” he muttered.

“You’re not. Look...just...trust me on this, ok? I’ll take care of this one. You just get better, all right?” Sam said as he went back to the bed and sat down in the chair. He reached over and pushed lightly at Dean’s shoulder, working to push away the melancholy he could see on his brother’s face. “Hey...you’ll be out of here soon,” he added softly.

“Yea...you know how much I hate hospitals though...cute nurses and all that aside,” Dean responded gruffly, then smirked at Sam. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. You do your job and we’ll put this town in our rearview, ok?” he ordered while patting Sam’s shoulder roughly.

Smiling and nodding in agreement, Sam stood and stretched. “I’ll do a bit of investigating and then come back for lunch. Try to stay out of trouble, ok?” he suggested teasingly as he grinned.

“Take away a guy’s fun...man I tell ya yer worse than a girl sometimes, Sammy,” Dean muttered as he rolled his eyes and settled back into his pillows. He was already looking much healthier and Sam had to wonder what had truly brought about his brother’s drunkenness.

Shrugging it off as he chuckled, Sam waved once and headed out, intent on finding some answers.

*~*~*

Easing the door to the hotel open, Dean glanced inside cautiously. The Impala had been gone, but that didn’t mean that Sam had vacated the premises. He smirked as he saw that no one was there and went inside, looking for his duffle. Pulling out some clean clothes, he went in and took a quick shower, washing away any remnants of blood that were still on him from the other night’s ‘fun’. He smirked as he remembered the girl’s moans before they had quickly turned into muffled screams after he had gagged her. She’d been a willing whore all right. Rumors of her infidelity and prostitution hadn’t been wrong. He was just glad that he’d taken one more disgusting leech off of humanity’s backside.

Refreshed, he changed into his clean clothes and took his dirty ones outside to burn them in the nearby garbage bin that he’d seen. Burn all the evidence…

When he got done, he went back towards the hotel, but stopped as he saw the Impala pull in. Cursing softly, Dean dove behind a black ’64 Covair that was near him and watched as Sam got out of the Impala and went into their hotel room. This wasn’t good…‘Better just buckle down till Sammy boy leaves. Can’t have him catching on just yet,’ he decided and sat down to wait out Sam.

*~*~*

Sam yawned as he got back to their hotel room and went inside. He stopped though as he noted that it was strangely damp in the air and that Dean’s duffle bag was on the bed when it had been on the floor earlier. ‘Musta forgotten to put it down earlier…’ he thought as he went over and looked at the bag. It looked like it had been rifled through, which made him try to remember if he had dug through to get Dean some new clothes. But Dean wasn’t getting released until later the next day…so what was going on?

Unable to put his finger on it, he pondered it as he booted up his laptop and looked into finding out where the girl’s body was being held. Finding the news article, he discovered that she was being held at the Newark Hospital. After writing down the address, he headed out to begin his own investigation. Driving out of the parking lot, he stopped as he thought he saw a shadow behind an old Covair. But when it proved to be nothing, he shrugged it off and continued on his way. He had other things to look into.

*~*~*

Dean slowly stood up from behind the Covair and watched Sam drive off to do whatever it was he was doing. He had almost been caught by his little brother, but luckily had ducked down and hid in time. ‘Sam’s instincts are definitely on high,’ he thought and smirked in a cruel version of pride. ‘Won’t do him any good…’ He went straight to the hotel room and grabbed a spare set of clothes, his favorite knife, his .45 revolver that had been gifted to him from Pastor Jim years ago, and then his leather jacket. Prepared, he headed out to find his next victim.

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