Shots Fired

Disclaimer : I don't own SN. I'm just borrowing the boys for fun. This is a tag for Dark Side of the Moon.

Of course their bad luck continued. Sure they were going to be resurrected, but in the meantime, someone had called in the gunshots. So much for the days of the no tell motel.

Sam and Dean woke up in total darkness, gasping. Something was wrong. Something felt off. Where were they? Reaching out, each lightly touched fingers to something that felt very much like a garment bag. Ah crap. Body bag.


The voice Sam heard was muffled, but he would know his brother anywhere. "Dean? Where are we?"

"My guess would be the morgue. I think we're in body bags."

The surface under them was hard and cool. Yeah, these tables were familiar too. Freaking crap. "I think you're right." Sam pushed against the bag, it wouldn't budge no matter how much he pushed. Great. "What now?"

"Gimme a minute." Dean grunted as he tried to wiggle his finger against the upper part of the zipper and work it down. Nada, no give at all. He tried prying it down the slightest bit with his fingernail, but that didn't work either.

"Dean, we're going to run out of air fast." Sam huffed, already feeling a bit light headed. This was not unlike having a plastic bag over your head.

"I'm working on it, just hang on Sammy." Dean bit his lip as he dug into his back pocket for his knife. "Ah." Carefully opening it, he slit through the bag and sat up. He sucked in a big gulp of air, then looked next to him. He kicked his way lose of the bag and hopped off the table and over to Sam. "Just hold still Sam. I'm gonna get you out."

Sam did as he was told and felt a relief as the bag was cut open and air rushed over his face. He breathed in greedily, then looked over at Dean who grinned. "This is a new one, huh?"

Sam laughed. "I repeat, our lives are weird man."

Dean kept smiling as he closed his knife and then nodded his head toward the door. 'Whatdya say we get out of here before someone walks in. We're good, but I'm not sure even I could explain us out of this one." He held out his hand and helped Sam free of the bag, then slowly walked to the swinging doors and looked out. "Coast is clear."

The men quickly slipped out the door, down the hall to the exit and into the night.

When the coroner came in later, he froze as he looked at the now empty tables, save the ruined bags. What on earth? He glanced around the room, no sign of his missing corpses. Going over to the bags, he leaned down and studied them. Huh. Odd. If he didn't know better, he'd say the first bag had been cut from the inside, but of course that couldn't be possible. Someone had to be playing a joke on him.

He threw his coat down on the chair as he turned and walked back out to the security desk. "George? Anyone come past here?"

"No sir, is there a problem?" He asked noting the other mans expression.

"I think some med students are playing a joke on me. Can you run back the footage for the last half hour and see if you caught something?"

About twenty minutes ago he'd have been on break. Maybe he had missed something. Those damn kids were always trying to pull something. Freaking med students. "Sure thing, boss."

Rolling back the footage, they both paused when they saw no one entering, but two men leaving. Men who were, pardon the pun, dead ringers for Dr. Kovac's missing corpses.

The men swallowed, not looking at each other. "George?"

"Yes, Dave?"

"We keep this to ourselves, got it?"

"You kidding?" George replied, still looking wide eyed at the screen. "Who'd believe us?"