something in the orange, spn [ 2 ]

033. sam's insomnia

Dean is standing by a dock and on the phone with Frank while the four kids play in the snow. Ophelia giggles as she sprinkles snow onto the twins' heads.

Sam, Larissa, Natalie, and Jacob walk up as Dean hangs up the phone.

"Frank?" Sam asks.

"You know, having a cranky total paranoid as your go to guy, that's-- it's-- I don't know what it is." Dean says. "What, are you going for, like, the Guinness record of caffeine consumption? That's like your fifth this morning." He tells Sam.

"Yeah, well, every time I close my eyes, Lucifer is yelling into my head. It's like I let him in once, now I can't get rid of him." Sam says. Larissa frowns, wishing she could do anything to help him.

"You know he's not actually..." Dean says.

"Yeah. Yeah, no, I know. Uh, try telling that to the volume control inside my brain." Sam says.

"Well, did you try the hand thing?" Dean asks.

"Yeah." Sam nods. "Anyway, long as I'm awake, check it out." He hands Dean a newspaper. Now having a hand free, Larissa doesn't miss the chance, and she links her fingers with Sam's.

"They're saying drugs, but read between the lines. Sounds like she danced her own feet off. Might be our kind of thing." Sam says.

"Dancers. They are toe shoes full of crazy." Dean says.

"You-- and you would know this how?" Sam asks.

"I saw Black Swan. Twice. Hot tutu on tutu action? Come on, Sam. What's wrong with you?" Dean asks.

"Wow. The depths of your--" Sam stops. "Anyway, it's in Portland, a couple hours away. What do you think?"

"Yeah, dancers. Why not? Maybe you'll get some sleep on the way." Dean says.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam says.

+++

"So, the usual. No EMF, no sulfur, no hex junk." Sam says.

"If there's no more dancers to interview on this trip, it could be a bust. Although I hear they have good coffee in Portland." Dean says.

"Dude, that's Seattle. Oh, let's just get the drill over with." Sam says.

They walk up to the desk where a duty officer is standing behind it and talking to another officer. Dean clears his throat, Sam raising his hand to get the guy's attention. The duty officer raises his hand at them, but still talks to the other cop.

"Later." The officer walks away.

"Hi." Sam greets.

"Yeah?" The duty officer asks.

"Uh, we'd like to see the crime scene photos from the Irina Koganzon case, please." Sam says.

"And you would be..." The five show their FBI badges. "Give me a minute."

"Take your time." Dean says.

The duty officer soon returns and hands Dean the file, the hunters looking through it.

"Yeah, I'd call that weird." Dean says.

They go to the evidence room, showing the guy in it their badges.

"Hey, there. How you doing?" Sam asks.

"Okay. What can I do for you guys?" The cop asks.

"Well, we need to see the shoes that were involved in the ballet dancer's death." Sam says.

"Didn't figure that would be an FBI deal. But, sure. Yeah, right here." He turns to a table. "Damn it, Tracy."

"Who's Tracy?" Dean asks.