𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛[𝙳.𝚆]

058

"So, you really feel okay?" Sam asks his brother for the third time now.

"I feel fine, Sam." Dean answers absently, staring straight ahead from where he sat on the hospital bed. I narrow my eyes in observation as I stare at him. He didn't seem fine. He has talked more when he was dying compared to now. I turn my gaze to the nurse that walks in when I hear her voice and clicking shoes.

"Well, uh, according to all your tests, there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was." I lean off the wall I was up against, near the door, looking at Sam happily. He returns it, dimples and all. "Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, uh...still it's strange—it does happen." She nods quickly, clicking her pen before writing something down on the clipboard she brought in with her.

"What do you mean strange?" Dean asks. She looks up and crosses her arms.

"Oh, just yesterday, a young guy like you—27, athletic—out of nowhere, heart attack." She explains. I look at Dean, wondering why this is any information we needed to know.

"Thanks, doc."

"No problem." And with that she was gone. Quick and easy.

"That's odd." Dean says as soon as she's out the room.

"Not really. Things happen." I shrug, trying to get him to just leave it alone. Dean scoffs.

"Maybe it's a coincidence. People's hearts give out all the time, man." Sam adds.

"No they don't." Dean deadpans. I sigh, moving to stand next to Sam.

"Hon...can't we just be grateful the man saved your life? Why do we gotta look into this? Why can't we just leave town, and put this place in our rear view mirror?"

"Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why." Dean says as he gets up and walks past us.

"What feeling?" Sam and I ask, but I sound more uneasy than he did.

"When I was healed, I just—I felt...wrong. I felt cold, and for a second, I saw someone—this old man. I'm telling you, guys, it was a spirit." Dean tells us while he puts his jacket on slowly.

"But, if there was something there, Dean, I think I would've seen it too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately." Sam hints.

"Oh, excuse me, psychic wonder. But you're just gonna need a little faith on this one." Sam and I share an unconvinced glance. "Guys, I've been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this." Dean says, his face serious. I give him a crooked smile.

"Okay, alright, I'll follow you on this. But, uh...what exactly is the plan?" I ask, crossing my arms and leaning my weight on one foot.

"Why don't you two go check out that heart attack guy. I'm gonna visit the Reverend." Dean moves for the door and I turn on my heels with furrowed brows.

"What are you gonna get from Roy?"

"Answers." He says simply, then walked out the door. I roll my eyes.

"Guess we're catching a bus, or are you rebellious enough to hot wire another car?"

After getting my hands on the heart attack patient's file with much ease, I learn that he was a professional swimmer, 197 pounds, 5'9, light brown hair, green eyes, and that his name was Marshall Hall. From there, I search up local swimming training facilities and call each one until I get the right place, then finally make an interview with a fellow team player of Marshall's.