The Weight of Living

26. Crossroad Blues

Sam, Dean and Jocelyn were sitting at a table, Sam with his laptop open. On the screen, there was a mugshot of Dean from the St. Louis Police Department.

"So much for our low profile," Sam said. "You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database."

Dean grinned. "Dude, Joss, I'm like Dillinger or something."

"Dean, it's not funny. Makes the job harder, we've gotta be more careful now."

"Well, what do they got on you?"

Sam muttered, "I'm sure they haven't posted it yet."

"No accessory? Nothing?"

"Shut up."

Dean laughed. "You're jealous."

"No, I'm not!"

"Uh-huh. All right. What do you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young man, you?"

Sam shut his computer, annoyed, and pulled out several pages of research. "Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed."

"Hmm. Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call Animal Control?"

"Two days earlier."

"Did he actually say black dog?" Jocelyn asked.

"Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog. The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive. Well, maybe."

"What's the lore on it?" Dean questioned.

Sam passed Dean the pages. "It's pretty vague. I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but... some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. But anyways, whatever they are, they're big, nasty-"

"Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg, look at that one, huh?" He held up a picture and smirked; Sam glared and Jocelyn rolled her eyes; his smirk slipped. "What? They could."

Jocelyn met Dean's eyes. "Sam's right. These are dogs you can't see with the naked eye. According to this, only those close to death and demonic creatures, can see them."

APARTMENT

In a posh, well-lit room, Sam, Dean and Jocelyn were in suits and a dress and interviewing a man.

"So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?" Sam questioned.

"That's right," the man said. "Now one more time, this is for...?"

"A tribute to Mr. Boyden," Dean explained. "Architectural Digest." The man laughed. "This funny to you?"

"No, it... it's just, a tribute. Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind... well, he gets another tribute."

"Right," Jocelyn noted. "Any idea why he'd do such a thing?"

"I, I have no clue, I mean he lived a charmed life."

"How so?"

"He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I... and it wasn't always that way, either."

"No?" Dean asked.

"You wanna know the truth? There was a time where he couldn't even design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyd's. A complete dive."