Story Summary: The cops of Jump Street Chapel investigate Sam and Dean.

Chapter Summary: Sometimes, you're just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Disclaimer: Neither Supernatural nor 21 Jump Street is mine.


"Approximately how long were they alone at the school."

Doug picked his head up from the desk and groaned when he put a little too much weight on his arms. "Ooow! What's the betting their not even feeling it?"

Tom grunted, not even attempting to pick up his head.

Fuller banged his folder on the table. "Hanson! Penhall! I need an approximate time."

Tom sighed. "Before or after we arrived, Captain?"

"Both."

"We were only like five minutes behind them," Doug said, defensively.

Fuller frowned. "What about before?"

"Don't know," said Tom. "They were there when we showed up. Had time to go through a couple cans of coke. They could've been there since school ended."

Judy came to stand next to the captain, arms crossed and eyes red. "They had time to murder her then."

Tom's head shot up. "Murder?"

Doug straightened in his chair. "Who was murdered? We miss something?"

"Lori Abigail was murdered last night," said Fuller. "Poisoned."

"Lori Abigail?"

"Sam Winchester's English teacher."

Doug looked confused. "How'd they go from two crazy kids selling drugs to murderers?"

Tom had another question. "Since when does the job involve any murder? I thought this was drugs."

Doug raised a hand. "That's two of us."

"Apparently, we were missing information."

Tom shook his head. "You mean the higher-ups weren't giving us information?"

"They wanted to, I quote, 'control the information flow'."

Doug snorted. "Typical. Kid dies, they blame it on drugs so they don't have to admit to the parents that their schools aren't safe."

"No, sir, ma'am, you're son wasn't murdered. He was just so doped up that he shot himself in the head – three times," Tom mocked.

"It's a corrupt system, my friend."

Fuller interrupted, "Yes, well, we have to work with this corrupt system. That means you two have got to go to work."

"School," Tom and Doug said in unison.

"We get paid to go to school," said Judie.

"Can't we miss first period?" Tom asked.

"And maybe second," Doug added. "The Winchesters will still be there. Well, Dean maybe won't."

"The Winchester's aren't going to be there at all today," said Fuller.

Even Judie looked confused at this. "Where are they going to be?" she asked.

"They are going to be answering questions from a Detective Morris. A patrol car went by the school last night. The officer saw Dean."

"What about us?"

"He didn't mention you." Fuller pulled on his jacket. "We made a little deal, though. He gets to stay on this case and I get to go under on his side." He picked up a briefcase. "The Winchester's are also being questioned by a Detective Fuller."

Doug picked a napkin and waved it like a flag. "Go for it, Captain."

"Have fun," said Tom.

"Don't kill Dean," said Doug. When Fuller raised an eyebrow, he shrugged. "He's got this smirk and… you'll see."

"I guess I will. Now, go to school."

"Ah, come on, Captain. Just first period."

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Dean cracked open an eye.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Sam pulled a pillow over his head.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

They both groaned.

Bang! Bang! Bang! "Police!"

Dean rolled out of bed and pulled on a pair of pants as he hopped toward the front door. He could hear Sam going through the same process behind him. He then peaked out the window. The guy definitely looked like a cop. Damn it.

He opened the front door with as much dignity as a grease-stained t-shirt, mussed hair, and swollen eyes would allow. "Police, huh?"

The man showed a badge and ID that read Detective Don Morris. "It's funny how quick the door is opened when you say that."

"Have you ever been shot at for saying that?"

"That happens too." He looked over Dean's shoulder when Sam appeared, hair even crazier than Dean's. "You're Sam and Dean Winchester?"

"Are Sam and Dean Winchester in trouble?" Dean asked.

"They might be."

Dean shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir. Our twins moved out about two days ago. I think they're staying down at the shelter and -."

Sam rolled his eyes and interrupted. "Do you want coffee?"

"Yes, please." Dean was still rambling about Sam and Dean being real trouble and how they gave a whole knew meaning to evil twins. Morris moved around him and, unknowingly, over a salt line to follow Sam into the kitchen.

Don Morris looked around.

It was a one-roomed house. He could just see two twin beds through the open door of the bedroom. The couch in the living room sagged in the middle, probably where the father slept. The kitchen was really just one shelf with kitchen material, though there was a nice-sized dining room.

Sam moved to the coffee machine.

Morris sat at the dining room table and the chair creaked beneath his weight. Unsurprising. All of the furniture had a used and reused look to them.

"Where are you parents?"

"Dad's at work," said Dean, who seemed to have given up on his evil twin story. He sat opposite Morris. "Can we help you?"

"Well, I'm here to see Sam and Dean Winchester," said Morris, "but if they're at the shelter…"

"Ha, ha," Dean deadpanned. "Can we help you?"

"Dean!" Sam shot his brother a look that screamed 'be nice'. Aloud, he said, "You want coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks, Sammy."

Morris smiled. "I'm here to take you in for questioning."

"Sammy, don't give this man coffee," Dean proclaimed.

"Dean!"

Morris laughed. "I'm sorry. That's probably not the best thing to say when I need my caffeine intake. Let's have coffee." Dean narrowed his eyes. "Really, we're in no rush. You were just seen near the scene of a murder and we have to clear a few things up."

Sam looked at him. "Murder?"

Dean eyes were now extremely narrow. "Yeah, murder, no rush."

Morris gave a small shrug. "It's not as if we suspect you of anything."

Sam glared at him. Morris suddenly wondered if the boy really would withhold the coffee. He honestly did need his caffeine intake.

"Dad. 6 p.m. Checking in. No problems," Caleb read aloud. He waved the paper in front of John. "He said I had to write it down exactly like this. Couldn't even give me full sentences."

"It's how we check in," said John, his eyes not moving from a newspaper.

Caleb shook his head. "Your whole family speaks in Morse Code."

Bobby plucked the note from Caleb's hand. He looked it over. "I know Morse Code. This is just Winchester Code."

"It gets to the point," said John. He threw his paper down. "We lost him."

"But we just found him," Caleb whined. "You sure?"

John glared. "I know how to read a damn newspaper, kid."

Caleb bristled at the label but Bobby spoke before he could respond. "He's ditching identities and switching patterns like crazy. He knows we're after him and he knows how to lose us."

Caleb sighed. "He could've jumped over the state line, right?"

"We'll check that way."

"This will take forever."

Bobby gave him a look. "We'll keep looking 'til we find him. Just gotta think how he'll work."

"Well, that's clear. He'll work like us."

"What would we do?"


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