Comfort Crowd Δ SPN [ 1 ]

010. BUGS

Sam is sitting on the car outside of a bar and he's reading a newspaper. Libby is asleep on his chest, a small blanket draped over to protect her from the night breeze. Ophelia is sitting next to Sam and reading her own book, turning to him for help with words occasionally.

Dean walks over to the car, laughing, and waving a wad of cash.

"You know, we could get day jobs once in a while." Sam says.

"Hunting's our day job. And the pay is crap." Dean says.

"Yeah, but hustling pool? Credit card scams? It's not the most honest thing in the world, Dean." Sam says.

"Well, let's see, honest." Dean says, holding out one hand. "Fun and easy." He holds out his other hand and pretends to weigh them, the "fun and easy"  hand outweighing the "honest" hand. "It's no contest. Besides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do."

"Yeah, well, how we were raised was jacked." Sam comments, carefully getting off the car and holding Libby.

"Yeah, says you. We got a new gig or what?" Dean asks.

"Maybe. Oasis Plains, Oklahoma, not far from here. A gas company employee, Dustin Burwash, supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob." Sam informs.

"Huh?" Dean mumbles.

"Human mad cow disease." Sam simplifies.

"Mad cow. Wasn't that on Oprah?" Dean asks.

"You watch Oprah?" Sam asks, smiling a little.

Dean freezes and avoids eye contact, realizing he outed himself.

"Is she the one who gives out cars?" Ophelia asks. Sam lightly laughs.

"So this guy eats a bad burger. Why is it our kind of thing?" Dean asks, changing the subject.

"Mad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration. It takes months, even years, for the damage to appear. But this guy, Dustin? Sounds like his brain disintegrated in about an hour. Maybe less." Sam says.

"Okay, that's weird." Dean agrees.

"Yeah. Now, it could be a disease. Or it could be somethin' much nastier."

"All right. Oklahoma. Man. Work, work, work. No time to spend my money."

+++

"Travis Weaver?" Sam asks, walking up to a man.

"Yeah, that's right." Travis nods.

"Are you the Travis who worked with Uncle Dusty?" Dean asks.

"Dustin never mentioned nephews or nieces." Travis says.

"Really? Well, he sure mentioned you. He said you were the greatest." Dean says.

"Yeah." Sam nods in agreement.

"Oh, he did?" Travis smiles.

"Listen, we wanted to ask you... what exactly happened out there?" Dean asks.

"I'm not sure. He fell in a sinkhole, I went to the truck to get some rope, and, uh... by the time I got back..." Travis trails off.

"What did you see?" Dean asks.

"Nothin'. Just Dustin." Travis informs.

"No wounds or anything?" Sam asks.

"Well, he was bleeding... from his eyes and his ears, his nose. BUt that's it." Travis says.

"So you think it could be this whole mad cow thing?" Dean asks.

"I don't know. That's what the doctors are saying." Travis says.