Chapter Text
“Can anyone tell me why two FBI agents are here over a cougar attack?” The tall detective with a short and neatly trimmed cut asked. He didn't need to spare a second glance at the eavesdropping duo beside him to know they were Shawn Spencer and his accomplice, Gus.
Shawn remained uncharacteristically quiet as he watched the two men introducting themselves to Cief Vick. His excellent eyes glanced at the IDs; no way they were real. Something about this whole thing screamed unnatural. Like a low budget buddy cop movie, except both men could be models.
“Hey Jules, do you think that guy has better hair than I do?” Shawn asked, squinting very profoundly at the FBI duo. Okay, notch. Both had PERFECT looks. But the one whom caught Shawn's eyes looked as if he had just came out of a L'oreal commercial! Either way, there was no way with those two in town he'd have any luck with the ladies.
“Spencer." Lassiter growled out Shawn's name. "We don't have time for these shenanigans.” His brows furrowed, looking at his partner, Juliet. “I knew that case smelt fishy." He continued with a certainty. "There is no cougar in California that would leave a bite mark that large."
Shawn grinned, his eyebrows waggled with impish delight. “Fishy? Lassie, do yemember what happened last time you questioned a certain animal of the sea--"
Lassiter didn't turn around. “I swear to god, if you mention that one more time, I will shoot you.” He almost smiled at the silence that fell after.
When the two FBI agents left, Shawn was finally able to pull Gus away. “Hey, did you get a load of those Ids?” His eyes moved around as he asked. They caught the sight of a sleek car pulling out of the parkibg space and driving down the road.
Some didn't share the same conspiracy theory as Shawn did, however. “Those were real badges, Shawn.” Gus was disinterred in getting in trouble with the government. Especially not after the last time.
Shawn rolled his eyes, exhaling with a light noise. “Psh. Sure, if we were in Delta Heat. Come on, Henriksen and Bishop? What kind of names are those? That one guy didn't even look Dutch!”
“Lance Henriksen isn't Dutch, Shawn. He's American.” He retorted. The car was safely far away from the both of them; the anxiety in Gus' chest settled down. He turned to say something to Shawn, but noticed he was missing. He saw Shawn's familiar hair disappearing behind a plant. “Where do you think you're going!” He quickly whispered to his friend. "He is seriously not thinking of sneaking in there!" Gus watched as of course Shawn was already moving into the room that Vicks, Juliet, and Lassiter were discussing upcoming cases.
"Shh!” Shawn whispered. He stood on his tippytoes to hide behind the blinds, then making his way behind a fern to disguise himself. Listening in to the conversation, his eyes searched Chief Vick's desk. There were folders and folders of cold case animal attacks, all from around the state, saying cougar. Wolf. Bear. He turned to Gus, mouthing, "Either Yogi Bear has been pissed off countless times, or... I think we're being hired.”
Elsewhere:
Sam watched his brother from the corner of his eye. The only sound since their visit to the SBPD had been the hum of the impala. Dean hadn't even fought with Sam on what tune they should play. As the car bounced over a bump in the road, Sam held onto the dashboard; that was the final straw. He had to get to the bottom of it. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Sam finally asked.
It was like Sam's voice broke Dean from his trance. With a shake of his head, Dean's foot let up on the gas. But he said nothing, his eyes listlessly drifting from Sam's reflection in the windshield, then back on to the road.
Sam's heart grew heavy with dread. Almost grimancing, he spoke again. “You've been silent since the police station. What is it?” If it wasn't what they dealt with constantly, Sam would say it looked as if Dean saw a ghost.
Automatically, Dean replied, “What? Nothing.”
"I thought we weren't going to keep secrets from each other again, Dean." Sam said, his tone more worried than angry. "After what happened last time..."
There was a silence between the two brothers. Dean knew he couldn't keep it hidden much longer from Sam. As his hands tightened their grip on the 1 and 11 o'clock, his gaze faltered from the road. “You remember Cain?”
Sam's eyebrows rose. That was a really peculiar question. “As in... Cain and Abel? Sure I do, it's in the bible.”
Dean throatily laughed at his brother's answer. He wettened his lips and swallowed hard. “You saw the guy who looks like he scares kids for a living?” He chuckled at Sam's sudden look.
There was one intimidating man that Sam recalled. He looked seasoned, and like he wasn't afraid to shoot anyone who wronged him. “Sure“Sur I did. He works there." Sam's confusion sounded in his tone, accompanied by the look on his face. "What does this have to do with anything?” It wouldn't take an outsider to notice Dean's sudden lack of confidence; the way his hands gripped the steering wheel, the way his shoulders lowered. They were all telltale signs. “Take your time,” Sam told him.
Dean thought if he kept driving, then the road would clear his thoughts. Then maybe he wouldn't seen so crazy to Sam. A couple miles down the road, he finally found the right words to say. “That was Cain.”
You could hear a pin drop in the deafening silence of the car. Neither one of them dared breathe a word edgewise. Sam was just trying to decipher what Dean had said. There had to be a double meaning, right? "That... was Cain?" When Dean's nod confirmed his suspicions, the shock numbed Sam. He stared out as the road, just as his brother had been doing. “Wasn't Cain suppose to be older? Y'know, with a big black beard?”
Dean hummed lightly under his breath, nodding. "Yeah, he's suppose to. Unless he forgot to touch up his roots." With new found energy, Dean tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Look, I'm not saying it IS the guy." His eyes returned to the road as he steadily inhaled. "He looks like him. Almost acts like him."
“I thought Cain killed himself in that demon attack?” Sam said with uncertainty.
“He did, that's the thing!" Dean slowed down the car at a stop sign. "The last I saw of him? Boom. Demons. Everywhere.” Dean made the motion of an explosion before pressing the gas pedal.
Sam made a face at Dean's description, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Cain's story wasn't over yet. There were still questions though. Like why Cain would pose as a detective made or why he had such a nonchalant reaction to seeing Dean or Sam. Maybe he was a good actor? None of it was adding up; more info would be needed. His name and date of birth would be a good idea, maybe even his social security card to see if it added up.
Garth had dropped off the radar months ago, so that left Sam wondering who they could call for the infornarion. They might even have to hack the police systems. Sam looked at the road, his eyes cloudy with the wonder and doubt as to who -- or what -- they were facong. “Okay Dean. We can find a motel, get some sleep, and start from there.”
Happy with the idea of a pit-stop, Dean nodded. The the sound of the Impala rumbled down the road, mixing with the other noises of Santa Barbara.