052. unicorns

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"What the hell is this? Spear of Destiny? What is this -- God's toothpick? You know, would it have killed these asshats to label these boxes in something other than hieroglyphics? It's ridiculous." Dean says. Nobody else responds. "Hey. You guys listening to me?"

"No." Ophelia answers. Dean rolls his eyes.

Athena babbles at him.

"Yeah, thanks, Athy." Dean sarcastically smiles at her and seeing a smile on his face makes her smile, cooing. "The people with understandable vocabularies listening?"

"What?" Natalie looks up from her book. Dean huffs.

"Hmm? Yeah. Yeah, no, you're doing great, dude." Larissa says. Dean rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. It's, uh... fascinating stuff. You should probably, uh, write it all down in your journal for the archives, you know?" Sam says, clearing his throat.

"Yeah, thanks. You guys are a lot of help." Dean remarks sarcastically. Sam coughs into a napkin. "Hey, Doc Holliday, you all right over there?"

"Uh, yeah. Um... I'm fine." Sam throws the napkin away. "Just, uh, wrong pipe." He glances at Larissa who is focused on feeding Athena, holding the bottle to the baby's mouth. Athena's tiny hands are on the bottle as she gulps down her drink until Larissa pulls it away for a bit so Athena doesn't choke. Nobody else is paying attention to him, all focused on their own things.

"Well, hello." Dean flips through a magazine. "These Men of Letters weren't so boring after all. Konnichiwa. Hey, check this out." Dean walks over and stands next to where Sam is sitting.

"Dude, what is wrong with you?" Sam asks.

"What's wrong with me? You kidding me? This is a first edition, dude." Dean says. "You know what this would go for on eBay?"

"No. Why? Do you?" Sam asks.

"No. Maybe." Dean admits. "Shut up."

"That's disturbing." Natalie mutters.

"You find anything?" Dean asks his brother, sitting down.

"I did, yeah. Uh, dead bodies showing up all over the Midwest last week. Benton, Indiana; Downers Grove, Illinois, uh, Novi, Michigan; and then again last night in Lincoln Springs, Missouri." Sam says.

"And how is this us?" Dean asks.

"Because each of the victims had severe burns around their eyes, hands, and feet, puncture wounds through the backs of their hands, eyes, and internal organs liquefied." Sam says.

"That sounds like us." Dean says.

"Yeah. Also, no link between any of the victims. Uh, one was a real estate agent. Another was a local historian. Woman killed last night was a teacher."

"So, chupacabra. What do we got? Power tools gone rogue? Wait-- are we talking a "Mexican Overdrive" situation here?"

"I don't know. Worth a shot, though. I'll grab my gear. We should probably leave in five."

"Mm-hmm." Dean nods, looking at the magazine.

"Unless, of course, you need some more time with Miss October." Sam says.

"What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, make it ten." Dean says. Sam chuckles and leaves.

"And this is where we all leave." Natalie grabs her children and then forces Ophelia and Libby to walk out.

"At least have the alone time in your bedroom. There are children here." Larissa says.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Dean says. He looks down at the trash can, seeing a bloody napkin in it.

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