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Hunting Humanity III	By : greenwizard11 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1200 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Supernatural universe. Absolutely no money is being made from this story.

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Dean sat in the kitchen eating a bowl of chicken soup. “How you feeling, sweetie?” Natalie asked him as she came in.

“I’ve lost the will to die, thanks,” he answered. “You?”

She shrugged as she sat down beside him. “I think I’m okay. The morning sickness is finally starting to go away thankfully. The way your brother has been hovering though, it’s beginning to drive me a little nuts.”

Dean chuckled. “Well, you are carrying his child now, and he’s concerned about you both.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I suddenly turned into an invalid. Pregnant women have been taking care of themselves and their families for thousands of years. The doctor said as long as I don’t do anything strenuous I should be fine. I’m perfectly young and healthy, and have no family history of complications.”

Dean shrugged as he finished his soup and took the bowl to the sink. “He’s a little freaked, I know. He feels responsible.”

“He didn’t force me to have sex. At least I’m pretty sure that’s how this happened.”

“Yeah, that’s how I heard it happens. But, hey, me, I can screw Liam until cum is dripping from eyes and there is zero chance of that ever happening to us.”

“And that bothers you a little, doesn’t it?”

Dean sighed and sat back down. “Damn mind reader...” he grumbled. “Yeah, it does a little, okay? I see you and Sam and think about that life you created together, and I want that a little bit. I want some of me passed on to the next generation.”

“And that is completely natural, sweetie. Liam suspects it though, and it really wears at him that he can’t give you that.”

“He shouldn’t. It’s a trade off I guess. I mean, I’m not gonna get a mini me, but I don’t have to leave him behind like Sam is always having to leave you. I wish he would’ve stayed home when he caught that straight from hell flu… Dumb ass me kept sleeping in the same bed and caught it too. I mean, I never get sick! But there I was on my knees in front of the toilet begging for death and wondering where in the hell it was all coming from. But anyway, I knew what I was signing up for when I decided to get involved with a man. We got to spend a lot of quality time together in bed even though we were both miserable. Thanks for hooking us up with a TV in there by the way.”

“Not a problem. But since you’re both on the tail end of that nasty flu, maybe you could find a case and drag Sam away for a few days. I could use the breathing room.”

Dean smiled and nodded. “Yeah, maybe. My stomach is still a little tender, but solid food is finally staying down the way it’s supposed to. And hey, I am happy for you and Sam you know.”

“I know. At least your family bloodline can continue through him.”

“Yeah, and I already love my nephew to bits and pieces. I am so gonna be the best uncle ever.”

Natalie chuckled. “I’m sure you will. You really think Astiratu was right and the baby is a boy destined to be a hunter too?”

Dean shrugged. “Well, I mean, he’s a smart ass, but he doesn’t lie. If you’re worried about the hunting thing though, he said that’s just destiny and there is free will.”

“Yeah...” Natalie sighed and placed a hand on her stomach. “I worry enough about you, Sam, and Liam. It’s a noble cause I think, I just… I don’t know...”

“I get it,” Dean nodded. “But I will tell you this, if that kid grows up and wants to hunt we will train him to be the best. Anyway, I’ll go look for some weird news to get Sam out of your hair for a bit.”

Dean found Sam watching TV a little while later. “Hey, pack your bags,” Dean sat beside him. “We’re going to Rock Ridge, Colorado.”

“Another case?” Sam looked over at him.

“Yep, rash of heart attacks in healthy young men. What’s got you so sour?”

“Natalie is mad at me. I just asked her if she needed anything and she snapped at me.”

“Dude, you’re being a little overbearing. I get that you want to take care of her the only way you can, but she asked me to find a case to get you away from her for a bit.”

Sam sighed. “Great, she wants rid of me.”

“No, she wants a breather. You have been following her around, and you know, pregnancy hormones don’t help. She’s not gonna break, Sam. She can open a jar by herself.”

“Okay, I’ll pack. Where’s Liam?”

“He went for a walk to get out of the house. I’ll call him, tell him to get his butt back here.”

They packed and said goodbye to Natalie and left. At eight the next morning they were dressed in suits and standing in a coroner's office. “Agents, meet Frank O'Brien.” the coroner said as he opened a body bag.

“He died of a heart attack, right?” Sam asked.

“Three days ago,” the coroner nodded.

“But O'Brien was forty four years old and, according to this a marathon runner.”

The coroner gave him a bit of a dirty look. “Everybody drops dead sooner or later. It's why I got job security. Why's the FBI give a damn, anyway?”

“The agency likes to be thorough,” Liam answered. “There have just been a lot of heart attacks in healthy and fairly young men lately.”

“We just want to see the results of Frank's autopsy,” Dean said.

“What autopsy?” the coroner asked.

“The one you're gonna do,” Dean said.

The coroner sighed but got everything prepared and started cutting into the body. “First dead body?” he asked when he saw the look on their faces.

“Far from it,” Dean answered. “Agent Crawford and I, we just got over this damn flu. I don’t know about him, but my stomach is just a little...”

“Ah,” the coroner nodded. “Yes, this year’s strain is brutal. I’ve already had a few victims of it come in.”

“Victims? Of the flu?” Dean looked a little surprised.

“Oh, yes. The elderly mostly, people who had other health conditions. But young and healthy men like yourselves usually recover with rest and fluids. Hey, hand me those rib cutters, would you?”

Dean picked them up and handed them over. Sam picked up the corpse’s hand and found scratches all down his arm. “Any idea how he got these?” Sam asked.

“You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop. Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground. Huh!” the coroner looked amazed. “I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries.” He lifted the heart out to get a closer look. “Heart looks pretty damn healthy.” He held it out to Dean. “Hold that a second, would you?” he asked while Dean took it looking very uncomfortable and the coroner continued to cut.

Their next stop was the sheriff’s office. “Al Britton. Good to meet you,” the sheriff shook each of their hands as they entered his office. He motioned for them to have a seat then squirted some sanitizer gel into his hands. “Okay. So, what can I do for uncle Sam?”

“Well, we're looking into the death of Frank O'Brien. We understand some of your men found his body,” Sam said.

“They did,” the sheriff nodded. “Me and Frank, we were friends. I knew Frank since high school. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was a good man.”

“Yeah. Big heart,” Dean commented.

“Before he died, did you notice frank acting strange? Maybe scared of something?” Sam asked.

“Oh hell, yeah. Real jumpy.”

“You know what scared him?” Liam asked.

“No. Wouldn't answer his phone. Finally, I sent some of my boys over to check on him, and well, you know the rest.” The sheriff put more gel on is hands and Sam, Dean, and Liam exchanged looks. “So, why the Feds give a crap? You don't really think there's a case here?”

“It's probably nothing,” Liam answered. “Just a heart attack.”

“No way that was a heart attack,” Dean said when they were back out on the street.

“Definitely no way,” Sam agreed. “Three victims, all with those same red scratches. All went from jittery to terrified to dead within forty eight hours.”

“Yeah, they were scared to death,” Liam nodded. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

“And what caused it?” Sam asked.

“Lots of things. The average person sees ghosts, vampires, a chupacabra... Their heart can’t take it.”

“Well, something is going around here and doing it to people on purpose,” Dean said. “Alright, who's the last person to see Frank O'Brien alive?”

“His neighbor, Mark Hutchins,” Sam answered.

“Hang on,” Dean stopped. “I don't like the looks of those teenagers down there.” Sam and Liam looked at some kids down the sidewalk and gave each other worried looks. “Let's walk this way,” Dean crossed the street.

They went to the neighbor’s house, and the guy had a lot of reptiles, including a snake around his neck. Dean looked very uncomfortable as they sat on his couch. “So, the last time you saw Frank O'Brien?” Sam asked.

“Monday, he was watching me from his window. I waved at him, but he just closed the curtains,” Mark answered.

“Did you speak to him recently? Did he seem different? Uh, scared?”

“Oh, totally. He was freaking out.”

“Do you know what scared him?” Liam asked.

“Well, yeah, witches.”

“Witches?” Sam repeated the word. “Like...?”

“Well, ‘Wizard of Oz’ was on TV the other night, right? And he said that green bitch was totally out to get him.”

“Anything else scare him?” Liam asked.

“Everything else scared him. Al Qaeda, ferrets, and artificial sweetener. Those pez dispensers with their dead little eyes. Lots of stuff.”

“So, tell me. What was Frank like?” Sam asked.

“I mean, he's dead, you know? I don't want to hammer him but, he got better.”

“He got better?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Well, in high school he was, he was a dick. I mean, he probably taped half the town's butt cheeks together, mine included.”

“So he pissed a lot of people off. You think anyone would have wanted to get revenge?” Liam asked.

“No, I don't think so. Like I said, he got better. And after what happened to his wife.”

“His wife?” Dean took a deep breath and found his voice. “So, he was married.”

“She died about twenty years ago. Frank was really broken up about it.”

“Alright, well, thanks,” Sam gave him a little nod and smile. “If we have any more questions we’ll be in touch.”

Sam went to check out Frank’s place while Dean did some digging. “Any luck at the county clerk's office?” Sam asked when he finished.

“I'm not sure I'd call it luck. Frank's wife, Jessie, was a manic depressive. She went off her meds back in '88 and vanished. They found her two weeks later, three towns over strung up in her motel room, suicide.” Dean started up the car.

“Any chance Frank helped her along to the other side?” Sam asked.

“No, Frank was working the swing shift when she disappeared. Airtight alibi. How was Frank's pad?”

“Clean. Searched it top to bottom. No EMF, no hex bags, no sulfur.” Sam glanced at the speedometer. “Dude, you're going twenty.”

“And?” Dean shot him a look.

“That's the speed limit.”

“What? Safety's a crime now?” Dean then drove right past their motel.

“Dude, where are you going? That was our motel,” Sam looked at him strangely.

“Sam, I'm not gonna make a left hand turn into oncoming traffic. I'm not suicidal. Did I just say that? That was kind of weird.” Suddenly the EMF in Sam’s pocket went off like crazy. “Am I haunted? Am I haunted?” Dean looked freaked.

They managed to get back to the hotel and Liam stayed with Dean in the car while Sam went to call Bobby. Dean scratched his arm and looked down. “Dude. Look at this.” There were visible scratches on his arm.

Sam came back. “Um, well, you're not gonna like this,” he said.

“What?” Dean asked.

“It's ghost sickness,” Sam answered.

“I don't even know what that is,” Dean shook his head.

“Okay. Some cultures believe that certain spirits can infect the living with a disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes. Symptoms are you get anxious, then scared, then really scared, then your heart gives out. Sound familiar?”

“Yeah, but Sam, we haven't seen a ghost in weeks,” Dean looked confused.

“Well, I doubt you caught it from a ghost. Look, once a spirit infects that first person, ghost sickness can spread like any sickness, through a cough, a handshake, whatever. It's like the flu. Now, Frank O'Brien was the first to die, which means he was probably the first infected. Patient zero.”

“Our very own outbreak monkey,” Dean sighed.

“Right. Get this, Frank was in Maumee over the weekend. Softball tournament. Which is where he must have infected the other two victims.”

“So, ghosts infected Frank. He passed it on to the other guys, and I got it from his corpse?” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Right,” Sam nodded.

“So now what, I have forty eight hours before I go insane and my heart stops?”

“More like twenty four,” Sam frowned.

“Super,” Dean leaned back against the car. “Well, why me? Why not either of you?”

“Yeah, um, you see, Bobby and I have a theory about that too. Turns out all three victims shared a certain personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two victims, one was a vice principal, the other was a bouncer. Basically, they were all dicks.”

“So you're saying I'm a dick?” Dean looked a little offended.

“It's not just that. All three victims used fear as a weapon, and now this disease is just returning the favor.”

“Whatever,” Dean shook his head. “How do we stop it?”

“We gank the ghost that started all this. We do that, the disease should clear up. Hey, what are you doing waiting out here, anyway?”

Dean looked up at the motel looking intimidated. “Our room's on the fourth floor. It’s high.”

Liam sighed. “I'll see if I can move us down to the first.”

“Thanks, Babe,” Dean gave him a little smile.

Sam went out to do more digging and Liam put Dean on the couch with a beer while he did some reading. “Everything all right?” Sam asked when he came back.

“Oh, yeah. Just peachy,” Dean answered. “It's nice to have my head on the chopping block again. I almost forgot what that feels like. It's freaking delightful.”

“We'll keep looking,” Sam assured him. “Liam you find anything?”

“Nothing we didn’t already know,” Liam sighed and let his head fall down on the book.

Dean stared to cough, and then choke. He ran over to the sink and spit out a wood chip. Sam picked it up. “We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have, you.”

“I don't want to be a clue,” Dean whined.

“The abrasions, this, the disease, it's trying to tell us something.”

The wood chip clue led them to an abandoned lumber mill. “I'm not going in there,” Dean shook his head.

“You're going in, Dean,” Sam insisted.

Dean sighed and pulled out a bottle of whiskey, taking a big drink. “Let's do this. It is a little spooky, isn't it?”

They opened the trunk and Sam went to hand Dean a gun. “Oh, I'm not carrying that. It could go off. I'll man the flashlight.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “You do that,” he patted Dean’s shoulder.

They walked in and Sam spotted a ring on the floor. He bent over to pick it up. “"To Frank. Love, Jessie. Frank O'Brien's ring.”

“What the hell was Frank doing here?” Liam asked.

“No idea,” Sam shook his head.

They walked in a little further and Sam found and ID badge. “Luther Garland.”

Dean spotted a drawing on the table. “Hey, this is uh, Frank's wife.”

“Plot thickens,” Sam turned around to look at it.

“Yeah, but into what?” Dean asked as he moved to pick the drawing up. It tore and the machines turned on. Dean stared into a corner before taking off in a panic. Sam and Liam turned to see a spirit of a man. Sam shot the spirit and they took off after Dean, who they found hiding behind the car drinking more whiskey.

“Guess we found the right place,” Liam sighed as he helped Dean back in the car.

They went back to the sheriff’s office for Garland’s file. “Deputy, according to this, Luther Garland's cause of death was physical trauma. What does that mean?” Sam asked.

“The guy died twenty years ago, before my time. Sorry,” the deputy frowned.

“Then can we talk to the sheriff?”

“Um, he's out sick today.”

Sam nodded. “Well, if you see him, will you have him call us? We're staying at the Bluebird.”

They then decided to go see Garland’s brother in an assisted living facility. “This isn't gonna work,” Dean said as they walked down the hall. “Come on, these badges are fake. What if we get busted? We could go to jail.”

“Dean, calm down. Deep breath, okay?” Sam looked to him. Dean took a slow deep breath. “There. You feel better?” Dean shook his head.

They approached Luther’s brother. “Mr. Garland. Hi uh, we’re from the FBI. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your brother Luther.”

“Let me see some ID,” the man demanded.

“Certainly,” Sam nodded, and they each handed over their fake ID’s.

Dean was sweating bullets while the guy looked them over and handed them back. “What do you want to know?” Mr. Garland asked.

“Uh, well, according to this,” Sam held out the file, “your brother Luther died of physical trauma. I see you don’t agree.”

“No, I don't.”

“Well, then, what would you call it?”

“Don't matter what an old man thinks.”

“Mr. Garland. We're just trying to get the truth on your brother. Please.”

Mr. Garland sighed. “Everybody was scared of Luther. They called him a monster. He was too big, too mean looking. Just too different. Didn't matter he was the kindest man I ever knew. Didn't matter he'd never hurt no one. A lot of people failed Luther. I was one of them. I was a widower with three young 'uns. And I told myself there was nothing I could do.”

“Do you recognize this woman?” Sam held up the drawing they’d found.

“It's Jessie O'Brien. Her man, Frank, killed Luther.”

“How do you know that?”

“Everybody knows. They just don't talk about it. Jessie was a receptionist at the mill. She was always real nice to Luther, and he had a crush on her. But Frank didn't like it. And when Jessie went missing, Frank was sure that Luther had done something to her. Turns out the old gal killed herself, but Frank didn't know that. They found Luther with a chain wrapped around his neck. He was dragged up and down the stretch outside that plant till he was past dead.”

“And O'Brien was never arrested?” Liam looked surprised.

“I screamed to every cop in town. They didn't want to look into Frank. He was a pillar of the community. My brother was just the town freak.”

They thanked him for his time and left. “Now we know what these are,” Dean motioned to his arms. “Road rash. And I'm guessing Luther swallowed some wood chips when he was being dragged down that road.”

“Makes sense,” Sam nodded. “You're experiencing his death in slow motion.”

“Yeah well, not slow enough. Say we burn some bones and get me healthy.”

“Dean, it won't be that easy,” Sam shook his head.

“Why wouldn't it be that easy?”

“Luther was road hauled. His body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over that road. There's no way we're gonna find all the remains.”

“You're kidding me,” Dean shot his brother a look.

“Look, we'll just have to figure something else out.”

“You know what? Screw this. Come on. No, I mean, come on, Sam. What are we doing?”

“We're hunting a ghost.”

“A ghost, exactly! Who does that? And that Sam, that is exactly why our lives suck. I mean, come on, we hunt monsters! What the hell?! I mean, normal people, they see a monster, and they run. But not us, no, we search out things that want to kill us. Or eat us! You know who does that? Crazy people! We are insane! You know, and then there's the bad diner food and then the skeevy motel rooms. I mean, who wants this life, Sam? Huh? Seriously? Do you actually like being stuck in a car with me eight hours a day, every single day? I don't think so! I mean, I drive too fast, and I listen to the same five albums over and over and over again, and I sing along. I'm annoying, I know that. And you, you're gassy! You eat half a burrito and you get toxic! I mean, you know what? You can forget it.” He tossed Sam the keys.

“Whoa, Dean. where are you going?” Liam asked, trying hard not to laugh at the outburst.

“Stay away from me, okay? Cause I am done with it. I'm done with the monsters and the hell hounds and the ghost sickness and the damn apocalypse. I'm out. I'm done. I Quit.” Dean quickly walked away leaving Sam and Liam looking at each other.

A little while later Liam entered the motel room to find Dean panting on the edge of the bed. “I looked everywhere for you, Dean. How the hell did you get here?”

“Ran. What do we do now? I got less than four hours on the clock. I'm gonna die.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Liam tried to assure him.

“No! You get out of my boyfriend, you evil son of a bitch!” Dean suddenly shouted and backed up against the wall.

“Hey, Dean,” Liam rushed over to him to shake him out of whatever vision he was having. “Calm down, love, and breathe.”

Sam called Bobby to come help while Liam sat with Dean at the motel trying to keep him as calm as possible. Dean was watching TV when he suddenly jumped and turned toward the door. “What is it?” Liam asked.

“Hell hounds!” Dean shouted.

Then the door busted open and the sheriff stepped in. “Why are you looking into Luther Garland's death?”

They both saw the blood on his arm. “You're sick, all right?” Dean held up a hand. “Just like me, okay? You got to relax.”

The sheriff hit Dean and advanced on him. “Frank O'Brien was my friend. So he made a mistake. So I didn't bust him. So what? And you're gonna bring me down over that?! No, sir.” He pointed a gun at Dean’s head and was about to fire when a shot rang out. The sheriff fell dead with a bullet in his head and Liam lowered the gun.

Dean looked to Liam terrified. “What did you do that for?”

“He was going to kill you.”

“Liam, please, don’t shoot me!” Dean cried, hyperventilating.

“I’m not!” Liam insisted. “Look, I’m putting the gun down,” he laid it on the bed. “Please calm down.”

“No!” Dean shouted and turned to something beside him. “You are not real!”

“Dean, what’s not real?” Liam looked scared himself.

“You are not real.” He clutched his chest and fell down.

Liam ran to him. “Please, Dean, slow deep breaths,” he begged.

“Why me? Why'd I get infected?”

Liam watched helplessly as Dean got worse and worse. Then suddenly Dean seemed fine. “Thank god!” Liam wrapped his arms around him.

Sam came back with Bobby a little while later and Liam and Dean were cuddling on the bed. “I guess it worked,” Sam smiled.

“Yeah,” Liam nodded. “You cut it pretty close though. Anyway, we gotta get out of here,” he motioned to the dead sheriff on the floor.

“You boys go, I’ll take care of that,” Bobby offered.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean smiled as he got up and started packing.

They returned to Memphis and Natalie welcomed them home. “Have a good hunt?” she kissed Sam.

“It was uh, interesting,” Sam answered. “I learned a lot about fear, and how it’ll make you nuts if you let it.”

“That sounds like it might be a good lesson.”

“I think so,” Sam nodded. “Look, it’s been brought to my attention that I’ve been driving you a little nuts. It’s just… Protecting you and that baby and doing things for you, I feel like it’s all I can do. I am a very frightened deadbeat.”

She put her hand on his cheek. “Sam, you are not a deadbeat. You have a very important job that you don’t get paid for. I worry about having a healthy baby too, but like you said, fear will drive you nuts if you let it. I am following doctor’s orders and not pushing myself, but Sam, every day activities are not going to hurt the baby, okay?”

“Okay,” Sam nodded. “I will try to be less annoying from now on.”

“Good. Now, I was feeling ambitious and I made homemade beef ravioli for dinner. It’s in the kitchen.”
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Hunting Humanity III