The Family Business [Supernatural] {1}

8.1 Bugs

Me and my brothers were at the Oklahoma Bar. Dean was inside the bar while Sam and I were outside, sitting on the hood of the Impala. Sam was reading the newspaper while I was playing on my phone.

Then, Dean walked outside, laughing and waving a wad of cash in the air. I sighed, "You know, we could get day jobs once in a while," I said.

"Hunting's our day job. And the pay is crap," Dean joked. "Yeah, but hustling pool? Credit card scams? It's not the most honest thing in the world, Dean," Sam said.

"Well, let's see honest," Dean said as he hold out one hand. "Fun and easy." He hold out the other, and gestured that "fun and easy" outweighs "honest". "It's no contest. Besides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do."

"Yeah, well, how we were raised was jacked," Sam said. "Yeah, says you," Dean said. "Stop. Sam, we got a new gig?" I asked my big brother.

"Maybe," Sam said as we both got off the hood. "Oasis Plains, Oklahoma -- not far from here. A gas company employee, Dustin Burwash, supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob." Sam placed the newspaper on the hood in front of me and Dean.

"Huh?" Dean and I asked at the same time. Sam sighed, "Human mad cow disease," He said. "Mad cow. Wasn't that on Oprah?" Dean asked and Sam and I looked at him. "You watch Oprah?" Sam asked.

Dean looked between me and Sam before changing the topic. "So this guy eats a bad burger. Why is it our kind of thing?" He asked.

"Mad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration. It takes months, even years, for the damage to appear. But this guy, Dustin? Sounds like his brain disintegrated in about an hour. Maybe less," Sam said. "Yeah, that's weird," I agreed and so did Dean, "Mmmmm."

"Yeah. Now, it could be a disease. Or it could be somethin' much nastier," Sam said. "All right. Oklahoma," Dean said and the three of us climbed inside the car. "Man. Work, work, work. No time to spend my money," Dean said and we drive off.

...................................

It was morning when we arrived to the Oklahoma gas and power company building. Me and my brothers got out of the car and walked over to a man, who we were hoping was Travis Weaver.

"Travis Weaver?" Sam asked the man. "Yeah, that's right," The man, Travis, said, looking at me and my brothers. "Hey, are you the Travis who worked with Uncle Dusty?" I asked. "Dustin never mentioned nephews and a niece," Travis said.

"Really? Well, he sure mentioned you. He said you were the greatest," Dean said. "Yeah," Sam agreed, playing along. "Oh, he did?" Travis asked with a smile and looked down shyly. "Huh."

"We wanted to ask you . . . What exactly happened out there?" I asked. Travis shrugged, "I'm not sure. He fell in a sinkhole, I went to the truck to get some rope, and, uh . . . by the time I got back . . ." He stopped.

"What did you see?" Dean asked. Travis shook his head, "Nothin'. Just Dustin," He replied. "No wounds or anything?" Sam asked this time. "Well, he was bleeding . . . From his eyes and his ears, his nose. But that's it," Travis said.

"So you think it could be this whole mad cow thing?" Dean asked. "I don't know. That's what the doctors are sayin'," Travis said. "But if it was, he would've acted strange beforehand, like dementia, loss of motor control. You ever notice anything like that?" Sam asked.

Travis shook his head. "No. No way. But then again, if it wasn't some disease, what the hell was it?" He asked. "Good question," I agreed, nodding. "You know, can you tell us where this happened?" Sam asked. "Yeah," Travis said, nodding.