3 | Truth. Not A Good Idea

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I sat on the hood of the Impala eating a hot dog as I watched Dean pace in front of me, talking to Bobby—whoever he was—on his phone.

    "I know what I saw, Bobby. He threw me to that vamp. I'm telling you, it's not my brother." Dean said, glancing to where Sam was in line for more hot dogs. "Yeah, or it's freakin' Lucifer.....'Course I called Cas. He's not answering. Screw him. I can't wait anymore.
Professional? He watched me get turned! Damn it, Bobby, yes. I know—we're talking about doing something about this, and fast. It's not just the vamp, okay? He has been different from the jump. I don't even want to ride in the same car with him, much less work a damn case. At this point, I'd rather be hanging out with the demon here." he ended the call.

    I crumpled up my wrapper and threw it at his head, having it bounce off his hair.

    Sam walked up to us with a newspaper and two hot dogs in hand. "Hey."

    "Hey. I was just, uh, I was leaving Lisa a message." Dean lied to his brother.

    "Still hasn't called you back, huh?" Sam asked as he handed his brother a hot dog.

    "No."

    "Sucks."

    Dean nodded. "Yeah."

    "You and Bianca got into it again while I was in line?"

    "When are we not fighting?" I asked.

    "Fair enough." Sam nodded, looking at Dean. "You okay?"

    "Yeah. I'm fine. How are you?" Dean asked.

    "Me? Great. Here, look. Check this out. Think it might be something." Sam handed Dean a newspaper featuring the story about a girl named Jane Peterson.

    "Four people, out of nowhere, all in the last couple of weeks. What do you say?"

"Yeah. Sounds like a plan." Dean nodded.

    "Let's go."

    We found our way to the latest victim—Jane Peterson—house a half hour drive later. Dean and Sam changed into their FBI suits as I kept my eyes away until they changed fully.

    "Do you guys do this often?" I asked as the sister of the victim let us into the house.

    "Shut up." Dean told me, the two of us walking around the living room as Sam questioned the woman: Olivia.

    "I don't understand. Why would federal investigators be interested in a suicide?" Olivia wondered.

    "Well, um... it's a new, more caring administration." Sam said.

    "Well, I already told the cops. Jane was having a really bad day, so I-I did what any sister would do. I...tried to cheer her up, you know? Told her to hang in there." she said as she played with her hair.

    "You know what a "tell" is?" Sam asked Olivia.

    "Excuse me?"

    "It's a poker term...for when you're bluffing. Like what you just did with your hair."

    "What are you trying to say?" Olivia asked.

    "You're lying." Sam answered.

    "What?!" Olivia gasped.

    "Tell us what you did to your sister." Sam said sternly.

    I looked at an ornate, gold-speckled dagger sitting on top of a glass case, reaching towards it.

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