A typical Midwestern town where life revolved around the farms that surrounded it, the weather and Monday Night Football. At the moment that way of life had come to a standstill. Outside the town's only diner a crowd slowly gathered, whispering amongst themselves, wondering how something like this could happen in their town. Just an hour before they had all been going about their usual business when the sound of screaming had shattered the familiarity of the morning routine.
A body had been found.
As a gurney rolled out through the diner's front door silence fell among the onlookers as they took in the sight of the black body bag that laid upon on it. A few turned their heads away, averting their eyes, not wanting to see yet knowing that the image would fill their nightmares for many nights to come. Others found themselves riveted to the scene, unable to look away.
"Well that looks like our signal that something's wrong on the Hellmouth," said Dean as he sat in the driver's seat his arm resting along the edge of the open window.
Pulling his attention away from the crowd, his back leaning against the Impala's passenger door Sam was surprised and amused by his brother's words. "The Hellmouth? Seriously?"
"Gotta love a woman who knows how to kick ass."
"Yeah, and the fact that she's hot has nothing to do with it," countered Sam, pleased to see his brother in a good mood.
Going to the Oktoberfest had been a good thing after all, they had solved an old fashioned case and Dean had gotten the girl. Things felt a little more back on track to being normal, or at least as normal as it could be for them. Of course deep down Sam knew that they weren't, that things between them hadn't really been resolved, but for now it was nice to pretend.
Dean flicked a smirk. "It does help."
Returning his brother's grin Sam turned his gaze back to the diner. "So, dead body?"
"Sounds like our calling card."
"Mmm, what do you think? Demons? Vampires?"
The corner of Dean's mouth twitched in a half smile at the sight of two men in uniform coming out of the diner. "Aren't they always. Only way to find out for sure is to ask some questions."
Heading towards the diner, Dean and Sam took in as much as they could, their eyes skimming over their surroundings, hunting for anything that seemed out of place. Details were important, something that years of hunting had both taught them. Overlooking something could be dangerous, not only for themselves but for others also. This time though nothing leapt out as being off and their focus shifted to the two men standing out in front of the diner.
The Sheriff looked liked a man use to the outdoors; tanned and wiry with windswept brown hair that seemed just a little too long for someone in his line of work. He didn't look like a man who belonged behind a desk. The Deputy though looked like he had just lost this morning's breakfast and was struggling to keep down...