01. Skin

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"It's okay. It's okay," a police officer said as the girl pointed to the room across the hall.

"In there! In there!" the girl cried.

The S.W.A.T team moved to the other room. The man was there, trying to open a pair of doors leading to a balcony.

"Freeze!" an officer yelled. "Don't move! Drop the knife. Keep your hands where I can see 'em. Drop it! Hold it right there! Do it!" The man turned around. It was Dean.



Sam and Dean pulled into the station.

"All right, I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight," Dean said and Sam didn't respond. "Sam wears women's underwear."

"I've been listenin', I'm just busy," Sam replied as he checked e-mails on his PalmPilot.

"Busy doin' what?"

"Reading e-mails." Dean got out of the car and started to fill the tank with gas.

"E-mails from who?"

"From my friends at Stanford."

"You're kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?"

"Why not?"

"Well, what exactly do you tell 'em? You know, about where you've been, what you've been doin'?"

"I tell 'em I'm on a road trip with my big brother. I tell 'em I needed some time off after Jess."

"Oh, so you lie to 'em."

"No. I just don't tell 'em.... everything."

Dean looked at their brother. "Yeah, that's called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin' the truth is far worse."

Sam frowned. "So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?" Dean shrugged. "You're serious?"

"Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can't get close to people, period."

"You're kind of anti-social, you know that?"

"Yeah, whatever."

Sam continued to read his e-mails. "God..."

"What?" Dean asked.

"In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine."

"Is she hot?" Sam ignored him.

"I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case."

"Dude, what kind of people are you hangin' out with?"

"No, man, I know Zack. He's no killer."

"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you."

"They're in St. Louis. We're goin'."

Dean chuckled. "Look, sorry 'bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem."

"It is our problem. They're my friends."

"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam." They exchanged a look. A minute later, they pulled out of the gas station and started driving.


She opened the door and saw Sam and Dean.

"Oh my God, Sam!" Rebecca cried happily.

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