Title: The Dead Boy Fandom: Supernatural belongs to the WB) and is not mine. Set shortly after the episode "Skin".

"The Dead Boy" by Karen

Somewhere outside of Boulder, Colorado

Dean wonders how long it will take the grease monkeys in the auto mechanic shop they found a few miles down the deserted road to fix his car engine.

It should not be taking this long and Dean does not have the patience to put up with delays and double talk about car lingo.

Sam went into the 7/11 store and Dean can just now see that his brother is coming out with two cups of styrofoam coffee cups in hand.

"Anything?" Sam asks as he hands Dean one of the cups and sits down ona wooden bench.

"I don't how you can be so calm about this," Dean muttered.

"It wouldn't kill you to relax a little bit."

"I bet you learned those relaxation techniques in that fancy college of yours, well, it might work for you, but I'll take unexpected setbacks in my own way, thank you."

"Fine. Whatever." Sam shrugged and sipped his coffee. "I think we are probably lucky to find an autobody shop open this late."

"That car is my baby, I'd hate to see anything happen to it."

"If you had put in the anti-freeze like I told you when we left Colorado we might not be stuck here now."

"Fine, you were right and I was wrong. Happy now?"


At that moment, with Dean wavering between waiting out in the parking lot and barging into the auto body shop the brothers could hear the unmistakable sound of police sirens approaching. The sound followed shortly by a patrol car with the state of Colorado license plates and stripped with brown and white lines.

"It's got nothing to do with us, right?" Sam asked, finishing the last of his coffee and tossing the empty cup into the nearest trash receptacle.

"You are way too paranoid."

"Occupational hazard," Sam replied, following the progress of the patrol car with his eyes.

"I guess you have a point there, but if he is here because of what happened back in town, I think we can bluff our way through this. I've got documentation in the trunk somewhere that we're legit."

"Please, don't remind me."

"Sam, give it a rest, okay." Dean muttered under his breath about yet another delay in their travel plans.

The driver of the patrol car pulled off the highway and onto the side straight where the convience store and auto mechanic shop was situated. The officer turned off his brights and turned off the ignition before he pulled into a parking lot, and got out of the car.

The officer was an older man, the one who been the last to leave the scene of the demise of his 'the skin walker.' Dean's devil-may care nature vying with his common sense, told him that he was going to have to do some quick thinking on his feet if wanted to get around the entire question of his 'legally dead status."

Dean sat down next to Sam and whispered: "Let me do the talking."

"You are supposed to be dead, remember," Sam whispered back. "Let me handle this."

"Sam Winchester, I presume?" the officer said.

"Who's asking?" Sam replied.

"It's late, son, and I don't have all night to stand around and play word games. Either you are or you aren't and I have questions to ask of you. The name's Officer Tim Ferguson.

"To answer your question, yeah, I'm Sam Winchester."

"Officer Tom Ferguson, Colorado State Patrol." He pulled out his badge and waved it around. "See, I'm following up the investigaton conducted several days back by the Boulder Police and you and your brother, Dean, showed up more than is strictly comfortable during that investigation. Care to tell me why?"

"Will you believe we were in the right place at the wrong time?" Sam began, knowing that he could not very well launch into a lengthy explanation on how the paranormal world existed alongside the everyday world. If he had tried, not only would he not be believed,
the officer would more than likely call the men in the white coats and the padded trucks.

"Not for a second," Ferguson replied.

"Aside from the uncomfortable deaths of several visitors and campers up on the ridge, and the hiking trails, I'm not certain I buy all this mumbo jumbo about paranormal activity occuring up there." Ferguson nodded and rubbed a hand through his salt and pepper thinning hair.

"Maybe it was a cult?" Sam suggested with conviction in his voice.

"Maybe, stranger things have happened." Ferguson glanced over to where Dean stood silently fuming. Fergunson blinked and raised the backs of his hands to his face to rub the grit of lack of sleep away, and blinked. "I've got a good memory for faces, did anyone ever tell you that you look an awful lot like the the guy who was buried, but never actually got charged for the murders?"

"No." Dean smiled, a faint thinning of his lips. "Must be a concidence. After all, you said it yourself, sir, stranger things have happened."

"I'm not trying to make trouble for you boys," Ferguson grinned. "I'm just trying to do my job. By the way, where's your car?"

"In the shop, there's something wrong with the engine." Dean said.

In the time it took the cop to glance over at the door to the shop."You mind if go inside and run a trace on your liscene plat? Strictly business, you understand?"

"Sure, knock yourself out," Dean replied.

Dean grabbed Sam by the elbow and pulled off to one side. "I think we're through the worst of it. Maybe we've answered all of his questions and then pay him off."

"With what, the credit cards?."

"Will you lighten up?"

"Hey, maybe next time we work a case I pull off my impersonation of James Dean, live hard, play hard, die and leave a good looking corpse."

"You really are impossible, you that. And have I mentioned lately that you are incorrigible." Sam muttered.

A few minutes later Officer Ferguson came out of the shop.
"You're clean. And I heard what you said about imitating James Dean, while that glamarous Hollywood lifestyle might look appealing, trust me, Misters Winchester; it is all substance and no style."

"You said it, man," Dean smiled, thinking as he did so,'You have no idea what we've been through, but I appreciate the sentiment.'

"If you want my advice, and you don't want to end up like those pour souls up at that campsite, you stay out of trouble and you live a lot longer," Ferguson smiled, said good bye and walked back to where he had parked his car.

As soon as the officer left Dean nudged Sam and let out a amused whistle. "And you were worried."

"Let's just check and see if the car is done and get out the hell out of Dodge."