Lost And Found ✔︎

13- Dean's Daughter

At the morgue, I take a closer look at the mark on his chest.

A forensics officer wheels the victim from the beginning of the episode out of a locker. Me, Dean and Sam are wearing their FBI suits. We lean over the body.

"The latest, but probably not the last. You guys always work this late?" The forensics officer asks.

"Ugh, hours suck. But, uh, great benefits package." Dean admits.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. 10% co-pay on all drugs."

"Seriously?" He asks as Dean smiles and nods. "Oh, but just generic, right?"

"No, no. Name brands are cool."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Dean agrees as Sam clears his throat.

"So. What's our boy here weigh?"

"Uh. A buck ninety. Thrown against a wall so hard it buckled. Based on the blood flow at the crime scene, the hands and feet were cut off while he was still alive, just like the others. The killer wanted him to suffer." The officer observes.

"And all vics are male, right, with the same kind of, uh, artwork as this?" I ask.

"Yeah. Identical." He responds as Sam takes a picture of the design carved in the man's chest on his phone.

"So, uh, DNA left at any of the scenes?"

"All of them. One before this, the guy bit the attacker. Still had a chunk of flesh in his teeth when he came in. That's about as good as it gets."

"Right."

"So, we have a match?"

"We do not." The officer responds.

The forensics officer hits a button on a computer keyboard and a window that says "Sample Rejected. No Known Genetic Markers" pops up on the screen.

"The samples were rejected. The genetic markers don't match anything we've ever seen."

"Didn't match any person in the database?"

"No, I mean they don't match anything human."

"Hmm."

***

"So what? I mean, so maybe she has another kid she didn't tell you about." I suggest.

"Nope, just the one. Emma. But that night, when I was with her, she didn't have any. And I was at her place, man. There was no playpens, no blankets, no rubber ducks." Dean reminds.

"Right. Like you would have been focused on that kind of thing." I scoff.

"Hey, that's the first thing you notice. Red flags. [Sam and I scoff as Dean takes two beers out of the fridge.]Then, all of a sudden, boom - baby."

Sam opens the laptop. "Yeah, the one you thought talked."

"Oh, it talked. And not baby talk, either." Dean reminds.

Dean hands Sam a beer.

"Now you know so much about child development?"

"I know enough to know that they don't say, "Hey, Mom. Who's that guy?" So, cut to...Lydia's handing this kid who's calling her mommy over to these two women, right? But this is not a baby. No, no, this kid's got to be five. And same name - Emma."

"You know, George Foreman named all his sons George." Sam reminds.

"Are you deliberately messing with me?" Dean asks as Sam shrugs with an upside-down smile.