Even Monsters have a Social 4/?

[emebalia]

Chapter 4

They sat in stunned silence for a moment.

"When was that?" John finally asked. Something like this usually made big news but he'd missed it completely.

"Almost two years ago." Harold answered.

John nodded to that, two years ago he hadn't been in the mood to pay attention to anything aside from his bottle. Maybe a place to sleep but farther than that?


"And since then?"
"Nothing. They managed to stay off the radar since then."

"You sure?" Of course Harold was sure but John had to ask. "You don't just stop if you're spinning out of control like this." He pointed at the screen. If you're as far gone as what he'd just seen, there were very few reasons you'd stop. However, the Winchesters he'd spoken with were pretty much alive and physically able to carry on with their killing spree.

"They died in police custody not long after this." Harold supplied. "Their heads were missing but the fingerprints were theirs and they were identified by the officers handling the case and by two FBI agents."

John didn't know what to say to that.

"How does Rachel fit into this?" He asked instead because so far there had been no connection to their latest number. However, if he'd any doubts about her role as the victim in this scenario, he was over that now.

"So far I couldn't determine any connection between Ms. Martin and the Winchester brothers." Harold admitted and switched a few windows on the screen in front of him. "Dean Winchester is known for torturing and killing women, though." He didn't sound certain. "But Ms. Martin doesn't fit his usual type."

John didn't want to think about Dean's usual type.

"Why the charade with the CDC? That doesn't make sense, Finch." John pointed out what Harold probably already knew. "I was there, it was pure luck Dean talked to Rachel in the first place."

"The Machine wouldn't give us a number based on luck, Mr. Reese." John wasn't sure if he sounded offended. "There is a reason why we got Ms. Martin's number. She's not a random victim."

"So we're back to the hospital." John straightened up with as sigh. "They were searching for something there. Something that's connected to Rachel."

"The younger Mr. Winchester pointed out the dying rate on the station Ms. Martin is working on is above the average." Harold tapped away and a second later a new window opened. Something with graphs and statistics. "And he's right. If you got a heart attack I wouldn't recommend the Nightingale Hospital Center, Mr. Reese."

"Somebody helping them along?"

"Every fatality so far has been considered a natural cause of death." Harold shook his head. "There had been autopsies but every time the coroner attested a heart attack."

"Why would the Winchesters be interested in heart attacks anyway?" John mused aloud. This didn't make sense.

"I don't know, Mr. Reese. But I'll have a closer look at Ms. Martin's former work places."

"You think she has something to do with that?" It wouldn't be the first time a nurse murdered her patients but Rachel didn't come across as a cold-blooded killer. As if they ever did.

"I'm just ruling out possibilities, Mr. Reese." Harold didn't look up while his fingers flew over the keyboard. "But if I had to make a guess I'd say Ms. Martin has noticed something she shouldn't have."

They parted with this. Harold would have a closer look at everybody connected to that stroke unit in general and Rachel Martin in particular. So far she could be caught up in anything from illegal experimental drugs given to the patients to a chatty patient over-sharing things he better shouldn't have.

I hate poking around in the dark, John thought on his way to wherever the Winchesters stayed for the night. With no clue where Rachel might be the Winchesters were his only lead. The signals of their phones led him to a motel. Not the best address in the world but cheap and with a no questions asked policy, John had no doubt. In front of one of the rooms he found the black Impala Dean was driving and a quick peek through the curtains confirmed that this was the room the Winchesters stayed at.

John didn't dare to linger too long but that peek revealed quite an arsenal spread out on one bed with Dean Winchester sitting at the edge with a knife and a grindstone while his brother sat with his laptop and papers all around him at the table. They were talking but John couldn't make out the words.

Making himself comfortable in his car, John settled for a long night.

It didn't take long for the lights to go out in their room and the night went by without disturbances.

"Should have brought Fusco." John muttered to himself and tried to find a more comfortable position. His ass was going numb.

In the morning the door of their room opened and wide awake John sat up straighter.

Sam Winchester stepped out and closed the door carefully behind himself as if he didn't want to make too much noise. Dean was probably still asleep.

Sam took the car and John followed him but the ride ended half a block down the street at a diner. A few minutes later he came back out with two cups of coffee and a brown paper back.

John used the moment to get himself a coffee as well, he needed a good dose of caffeine, before he followed Sam back to the motel. The car was once again parked in front of their room but they didn't waste much time with breakfast. When they came back out only ten minutes later, Dean was still nursing his cup of coffee and was overall looking grumpy.

Not a morning person, John mused and started his car to follow them. He'd seen the weapons they had in their room so he was pretty sure both were armed and dangerous so he didn't follow them too closely. Their car was hard to miss and he felt comfortable with keeping a few cars between himself and the Impala.

They stopped at a library where Sam left the car. With his satchel over his shoulder he looked like a college student ready to study for an exam or something. He was a little too old for that picture but John could see the boy he must have been in his Stanford years. However, that picture overlapped with the Sam Winchester he'd seen in that video. This man was as far from a harmless college student as he could be.

Dean pulled the car back in line and John had to make a quick decision which brother to follow and wished not for the first time he'd Fusco at his side to send after Sam while John stayed on Dean's tail. But that man had to actually work his normal job from time to time, John got that.

Without backup John could only hope that Sam stayed at the library and did what people did at libraries while he kept his eyes on the Impala. What the younger Winchester was looking for could have been interesting but he doubted they would find Rachel that way and John pegged the older brother for the more violent one anyway.

Like a shotgun's more violent than a pistol, John thought and his lips tightened to a thin line. The result was the same, dead was dead.

John wasn't surprised when their journey ended in front of the hospital.

Once again Dean flashed is fake CDC badge and for the next hour he talked to everybody working at the stroke unit he could find, doctors, nurses, even the cleaning lady who was mopping the floor.

Whatever he was looking for, he was thorough, John had to give him that. Especially the cleaning lady was somebody easily dismissed but in many cases the source of useful information.

After the interviews one of the nurses let Dean use one of the computers where he worked alone for a moment until he was interrupted by his phone.

"Mr. Winchester is calling his brother." Finch supplied and a smile ghosted over John's lips. Harold loved to call people by their last name, this one had to drive him nuts.

"Find anything?" From the distance John saw Dean speaking but he heard his voice loud and clear in his ear.

"The death rate spiked up almost two years ago." Sam answered. "Before that nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing on the hospital itself." He paused for a second. "You know aside from people dying there from time to time. No violent death or something."

"All natural causes?" Dean asked, his eyes on the screen in front of him. For a moment he reminded John of Harold.

"As far as I can tell."

John still had no clue what their angle was but then Sam continued.

"Ran the badge of Mr. Undercover." There was a rustle of papers. "It belongs to a Detective James Stills."

They were good. John had his features under control but he was still glad that he could pretend he was busy with the cabinet in front of him while he watched Dean out of the corner of his eye.

"So he really is a cop?"

"Don't think so. I'm looking at his picture right now. That's not our Mr. Undercover." Sam answered. "Stills went missing a while ago and is presumed dead."

"Why am I not surprised?" John heard the sigh and saw Dean leaning back in his chair. "Think he's our guy?"

There was another thoughtful pause before Sam answered. Long enough for John to wonder when he'd become their guy and what that meant. If it brought him to their attention and not Rachel he was fine with this, though.

"He was at the hospital. And then at the diner …" Sam reminded his brother. "Wouldn't be the first time something went for confrontation."

Dean hmmed to that. "I've asked around, nobody here knows him."

"It's a big hospital, if he comes in at different times on different days …" Sam didn't finish the sentence but Dean nodded in understanding.

"He could stay undetected for years if he's careful."

"He still on your tail?" Sam asked casually while John had to fight to mask his surprise. They were really good.

"He's watching me right now." Dean confirmed without looking in John's direction. If it hadn't been for the conversation he was listening in to John wouldn't have a clue Dean had noticed him at all. "He's good at blending in."

"So, him?" Sam asked and John felt like his death sentence was about to get signed.

"I'm not sure." To his surprise Dean was the one hesitating. "You remember the nurse I interviewed yesterday? Rachel Martin?"

And there it was.

"Yeah?"

"Guess who didn't show up to work today." Dean clicked his tongue. "According to her co-workers that's a first for her. And she started working here two years ago."

"So we have two suspects." Sam summed the situation up.

"Or two of those things." Still with the phone at his ear Dean stood up. "Find everything there is to find about those two."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'll have a little chat with Mr. Undercover and then I'll head over to Rachel's, see what I can find there." He started walking in John's direction without obviously heading for him.

"Make sure you got the right one before you stab innocent people." Sam said with clear amusement in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah." With that they ended the call but by that time John was already on his way out of the building. Before he wanted a confrontation with the Winchesters he needed to sort this out.

"Finch?" He asked under his breath but was sure the other one could hear him just fine. "When did I become the target here?"

Chapter 5
Masterpost