Hells Bells

Yellow Fever

"Agent Tyler, Agent Perry, and Agent Shield, meet Frank O'Brien." The mortician opened the body bag.

"He died of a heart attack right?" Sam asked.

"Three days ago."

"But O'Brien was forty-four years old, and according to this, a marathon runner." Sam looked in the file.

"Every body drops dead sooner or later, that's why I got job security."

"Yeah, but Frank kicked it here. Now yesterday, two perfectly healthy men bit it in maumee. All heart attacks. You don't think that's strange." Dean added.

"Sounds like maumee's problem to me. Why's the FBI give a damn anyway?"

"We just want to see the results of Frank's autopsy." I tried to wrap it up.

"What autopsy?"

"The one you're gonna do." Dean demanded. We had to put on these yellow garbage bag things over our clothes and blue aprons while he did the autopsy.

"Dead bodies are so much different from love bodies." I whispered.

"First dead body?" He asked.

"Far from it." Dean answered.

"Oh, good. Because these suckers can get pretty ripe." He went into the chest with his hand.

"Ripe like an apple?" I asked.

"Not quite." He moved his hand around. "Hand me those rib cutters would you?" Dean grabbed the tool off the table and handed it to him.

Dean picked up Frank's hand, looking over the bruises and scratches. "Any idea how he got these?"

"When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop. Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground." He looked down at the heart. "I can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries." He snapped the heart out of the chest. "Heart looks pretty damn healthy. Hold that a sec would you?" He handed me the heart.

"Dean-Dean-Dean-" I panicked, handing it to him.
Dean stared at it with wide eyes while Sam tried not to laugh. He cracked something else and blood shot up onto Sam's face.

"Oh, sorry. Spleen juice." He shrugged.

We went to the sheriff's station after the morgue. I sat in between Sam and Dean in the waiting area.

"Sam." I whispered.

"What?"

"You got some spleen juice on your neck."

"That didn't work five minutes ago, Ace, and it is not working now." He sighed.

"Hell's Bells, Linus have you seen my-" the Sheriff opened the door from his office. "Who are they?"

"Federal agents. I, uh-" Linus stuttered.

"And you kept them waiting?"

"You-you said not to disturb."

"Come on back." He opened the door more. We walked over and once we got close enough he stopped us. "Shoes off." We all furrowed our brows and took off our shoes. I was in heels, so now all I had between me and this nasty floor was panty hoes. Kill me.

He let us in once our shoes were off. "Al Britton. Good to meet you."

"You too."

He sighed loudly and put on way too much hand sanitizer. "So, what can I do for Uncle Sam?"

"Well, we're looking into the death of Frank O'Brien." Sam spoke up. "We understand some of your men found his body."

"They did. Me and Frank, we were friends." He sighed. "Hell, we were gamecocks." Dean chuckled. "That's our softball team's name. They're majestic animals." Dean pursed his lips. "I knew Frank since high school. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see him. Frank was- he was a good man."