Season Three

Episode Eight: Under My Skin

By SnSam

Part Two

Miami-Dade County Coroner’s Office

Walking the block or so to the Miami-Dade County Coroner’s Office, Sam and Mason pushed through the doors and were instantly blasted by the cool breeze of the air conditioner. It was a welcome respite from the heat and Sam felt a shiver run down his spine. Following Mason to the back of the building in the direction of the morgue, Sam gave a small wave to the female attendant. When they stepped through the large steel doors, Sam thought he’d stepped into another era.

The Grateful Dead’s Dark Star blared through the speakers of a worn stereo sitting on the desk in the corner. A man in a white lab coat with long silver hair pulled back into a ponytail bobbed his head in perfect timing to the beat, humming along as he worked on a corpse.

“Hey, Doc, you think you got that radio turned up loud enough?” Mason yelled to be heard over the radio.

The doctor turned around and Sam bit back a smile as he took in the doctor’s baggy khakis teamed up with a bright tie-dyed tee. Large rimmed glasses barely managed to stay on his nose, taking up a good portion of his white-bearded face. A lone gold stud stuck out from his ear.

The doc smiled easily at Mason. “This is the Dead, Lieutenant. You either crank it up or don’t bother with it at all.” He looked over at Sam. “You know what I’m saying, right?”

Sam shook his head. “Sorry, this music never did it for me.”

The hippie doc clutched his chest as if Sam had stabbed him. “Such is the travesty of the younger generation. You kids wouldn’t know good music if it bit you in the ass. Now all you care about is that bubblegum pop and emo rock.” He shook his head sadly. “The whole lot of you are being brainwashed.”

Sam chuckled as he found himself liking the eccentric doctor.

Mason glanced over at Sam. “Don’t pay Doctor Jarvik any mind. He tries to get anyone who steps through his doors to listen to this hippie crap.”

“‘Crap’ she says.” He pulled his gloves off and reached over to turn the radio down before extending a hand to Sam. “The name’s Phil Jarvik.”

Sam shook his hand, not surprised by the man’s firm grip. “Sam Walsh.”

“He’s a behaviorist with the FBI,” Mason supplied. “Thought he might be able to give us an idea of who we’re dealing with here.”

Jarvik grimaced. “The DeLisle murders, right?”

Sam nodded.

“We can use all the help we can get with those,” Jarvik admitted.

“Well, I’m here to see what I can do.”

“Can you show Agent Walsh what you found?” Mason asked.

“Sure thing. Come with me—can I call you Sam?”

“Please do.”

“Good. I was never one to bother with pleasantries. We were given first names for a reason, right?”

Sam smiled. “Can’t argue with you there.”

Jarvik smiled over at Mason as he led them to one of the multitude of stainless steel drawers. “I like this guy.”

“He’s not so bad,” Mason admitted.

Sam ducked his head before anyone could see the blush creeping up in his cheeks. Neither paid him any mind as Jarvik scooped up a folder from a nearby tray, handing it off to Sam before opening the drawer.

“You might want to brace yourself for this,” he warned before unwrapping the body from its plastic covering.

The warning didn’t do anything to stop Sam’s stomach from going up. Even after all he’d seen and faced as a hunter, it still did nothing to prepare him for the sight before him. While the basic outline of the corpse showed it was very much human, the missing skin would say otherwise. It was as if someone took a scraper and removed the skin, almost as if they were peeling paint from a wall.

Putting a hand up to his mouth to try to keep back the bile threatening to come up, Sam cleared his throat as he opened the manila folder. “This was how she was found?”

Jarvik nodded. “Poor girl—for someone to come along and take the time to remove every inch of her skin precisely is beyond me.”

Sam willed himself to look more closely at the girl and indeed saw not a trace of skin was left on her body. It can’t be a shapeshifter—if they want someone’s skin all they have to do is kill a person and assume their form.

“Even after all this, it wasn’t what killed her,” Jarvik said.

Sam frowned. “What did?”

Jarvik looked up at him. “She was drained.”

“You mean of her blood?”

Jarvik shook his head.

“What do you mean then?”

“Now, before I tell you this, I want you to understand I have been drug-free for the last thirty years or so. I mean, it was a different time back then. Everyone was doing it.”

“Just tell him already, Doc,” Mason said impatiently, as if she’d heard this spiel before.

Jarvik exchanged a grin with Sam. “Mason likes to get to business. She doesn’t take the time to have some fun.” When Mason glared at him, he became serious. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say her soul was drained.”

“Really? And this is the same with all the vics?” Sam tried to sound shocked, but judging from the look Mason gave him, he failed miserably. Sorry, but in my line of work, you don’t tend to be shocked by anything anymore. “Do you have anything to back that up?”

Jarvik shook his head, grinning ruefully. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you, Sam?” Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Jarvik stopped him. “It’s okay. Honestly, I think I may be crazy too, but I have seen nearly every death imaginable come through these doors, but I have never seen anything like this. The skinning was done post-mortem.”

“Can you tell how they were skinned?”

“It looks like the skin was just peeled right off. Whoever did it was damn good.”

Sam closed the folder and handed it back to Jarvik. “Thank you for your time, Doc.”

Jarvik held out his hand and shook Sam’s again. “It was my pleasure, Sam. I always enjoy entertaining an audience.” He looked over at Mason and smiled. “You know, if there were more agents in the FBI like this young man, we could really get some work done.”

Sam smiled, wishing he wasn’t lying to the doctor about who he really was. Jarvik seemed like a great guy and Sam felt guilty for stringing him along. Just one of the hazards of being a hunter…

“Call me if you find anything more, Doc,” Mason said as she walked with Sam to the doors.

Jarvik was pulling on another pair of latex gloves, reaching for his radio. “Will do.”

As soon as they stepped out into the bright Florida sunshine, Mason whirled on Sam. “What was that in there?”

Sam frowned. “What was what?”

“When the doc told you about what killed the vics, you didn’t act the least bit fazed by it.”

Sam shrugged. “I’ve heard crazier things in my line of work.” Before she could argue further, Sam pulled out his notepad and scribbled his number on it. “Listen, I’ve got to go check out some things. Call me if you find out anything new.”

Mason took the slip of paper. “What about if you find anything?”

Sam smiled as he walked away. “I know where to find you.”

DeLisle Modeling Agency

Things were definitely shaping up for the better for Dean. He realized if the gates of Hell chose to open up and swallow him then and there, he would be okay with that. After all, how many guys could ever say they got the chance to help models—by “help” meaning rubbing lotion on their backs, helping them zip up outfits and tie off bikinis, and giving them massages. Last time Dean did that, he was pretty sure he was quite inebriated and attempting his latest conquest.

This is an actual friggin’ job? How in the world did the guidance counselors at school not tell me about this? Hell, if they did, I may have given Dad the same fight Sammy gave him when he wanted to go to college…

“Dean, can you be a sweetie and zip this up for me?”

Dean smiled at the girl standing before him. “Sure thing, Sophie.”

Sophie smiled as she turned around, her back facing Dean. “You have been nothing but an absolute doll.” After he zipped her up, she turned to face him once more. “How is it that you’re here for a lowly assistant’s job?” She brought a finger up and traced along his jaw line. “With a face like this, you could do so much more,” she cooed.

Dean’s smile turned cocky. “Really?”

Sophie smiled, practically eating up the attention she was getting from Dean. “Definitely.”

Dean paid no heed as the elevator dinged, signaling someone was getting off. He only had eyes for Sophie. “Any ideas on what I could do with it?”

Sophie’s smiled turned seductive. “I can think of a few…”

I bet you could…Before Dean could voice that opinion, the sound of a clearing throat stopped him dead in his tracks. He saw Sophie’s eyes light up at the newest arrival and he prayed it wasn’t a jealous boyfriend with the strong urge to redecorate the fourth floor with his blood.

“Dean?”

Dean visibly sagged with relief at the sound of his brother’s voice. If they weren’t in such a public place, he would have scooped Sam up and given him a bear hug. “Sammy!” He turned around, beaming. “What brings you over here?”

“I was in the area.” Sam nodded towards Sophie. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, Sammy, this is Sophie.” Dean smiled at the girl. “Sophie, this is my brother Sam.”

Sophie arched a brow in approval. “Brother, huh?” She held out a well-manicured hand to Sam. “The genes certainly run deep in your family. Nice to meet you, Sam. Dean’s told me quite a bit about you.”

“I’m sure he did.” Sam smiled tightly as he shook her hand before releasing it and turning to Dean. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“Sure.” Dean winked at Sophie. “I’ll be right back.”

Sophie pouted. “Don’t be too long. We have to leave soon or we’ll never get in.”

Sam frowned as he followed Dean to a small alcove. “What is she talking about?”

Dean waved a dismissive hand. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Sam scoffed. “Dean, if I didn’t arrive when I did, you two would have thrown down in the middle of the room.”

“I think that’s taking it a little bit too far, Sammy.” Dean grinned. “We would have at least made it to the elevators.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Great, I’m going to have to take the stairs now.”

“But seriously though, I’m going undercover trying to see what I can find out from in here.”

Sam nodded. “Uh-huh. And how has that been going for you?”

Dean shrugged. “It’s a little…slow.”

Sam feigned shock. “Really?”

“They’ve got me running around like a damn gopher. I can’t get anything done.”

Sam looked towards Sophie who was pretending not to watch them and smirked at Dean. “Yeah, I can see where that would be taxing.”

“Whatever, dude. Besides, I did manage to learn two things.”

“Oh, this ought to be good.”

Dean went on as if he didn’t hear Sam. “One, everyone here thinks I could cut it as a model.”

“Oh, dear God…”

“And two, I overheard a conversation Stella was having.”

Sam frowned. “What kind of conversation?”

“Looks like someone’s curious now,” Dean said, arching a brow. “She was talking to someone over the phone. Basically, she was gearing up to tear someone a new one. She said she wasn’t going to let her business be run into the ground.”

“What to you think that means?”

“You tell me, College Boy.”

Sam ignored the comment. “We may still need to keep an eye on her.”

“That’s the brilliant plan,” Dean said, nodding. “So, what did you find out, Nancy Drew?”

“I met up with Lieutenant Mason—she’s in charge of the investigation.”

“Is she hot?”

“Dean…” Sam couldn’t stop the small smile forming on his lips and Dean didn’t miss it.

“Looks like someone has a first-grade crush,” he teased.

“No, I don’t!” Sam said a little too quickly.

“Oh, you so do.” Dean grinned. “You shouldn’t even try to hide it, Sammy. Big brother sees all and knows all.”

“Big brother is also an annoying ass,” Sam muttered.

“Is that your face I see turning an interesting shade of red, Sammy?”

“Would you just shut up?” Sam hissed.

“Okay, fine. What did you find out from the hot police chick you clearly don’t have a crush on?”

Sam sighed in frustration. “Nothing we don’t already know except for the fact the victims were dead before they were filleted.”

“What do you mean?”

Sam chuckled as he scratched the back of his head. “Well, if you believe the hippie coroner, their souls were drained.”

Shock didn’t even register on Dean’s face. “We’ve heard and seen crazier things.”

“Yep.”

“So, what do you think we’re dealing with?”

“I’m not too sure yet since it could be several things. I figure if I can get in and do some research, I can narrow it down.”

Dean glanced down at his watch. “I don’t see where you’re going to get much research done today.”

“Yeah, me either. The library will be closing soon so I’ll just have to start on it tomorrow unless I can find something on the internet tonight.”

Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Well, that works out great because it turns out Sophie has a friend. I told her we could use a nice little tour of Miami.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “And I’m sure she could offer so much more to you.”

“If she’s offering, who am I to refuse?”

“Dude, you do remember Mia, don’t you? Petite woman, long brown hair, brown eyes, demons possessing her like crazy?”

“Don’t start doing that, Sam.”

“Doing what?”

“You know damn well what—trying to make me feel guilty. I remember Mia—very well, in fact. I haven’t stopped thinking about her since I dumped her with Joe.”

“So, this is you coping?”

Dean shrugged.

“I’m not going to argue about it then.”

“Good. Besides, Sophie was the last person to see Chloe alive so I’m hoping she can tell me something.”

“You mean besides her bra size?”

“Dude…”

Sam held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not saying anything else. I’ll be at the motel if you need anything.”

“Oh, if I need something, Sammy, I will not be calling you.”

Sam grinned. “Don’t wake me when you manage to crawl in.” He crossed his fingers as he started to edge back towards the elevator. “Here’s hoping you find out something enlightening. Oh, and by the way, you may want to explain that Chicken of the Sea is actually tuna and not chicken.”

Flamingo Inn

Sam let out a deep sigh as he unlocked the door to his room and threw his jacket on his bed. He knew it was a bad idea to let Dean go into the modeling agency. Sure, he’d managed to overhear the conversation Stella was having over the phone, but that could easily be attributed to anything. She was in a cutthroat business after all—it was either be eaten or do the eating yourself. Besides, she wouldn’t have much to gain by killing off her models—it would hinder more than help and not to mention that it was something supernatural behind the killings.

Still, the younger Winchester knew they couldn’t discredit her yet. After all, they hadn’t managed to stay alive this long in the hunting world by giving people the benefit of the doubt. They’d dealt with crazy humans before, so it wouldn’t come as much of a surprise if Stella was behind all the deaths.

Now, on top of everything else, Sam just had to let Dean see he may be interested in Mason. It wasn’t like he was gaga over her—she was an attractive, strong, professional woman. There was nothing wrong with being attracted to her; she was his type. It was these same qualities that attracted him to Jess and Sarah.

Sam couldn’t dwell on that though. He was here in Miami for a reason; he couldn’t afford to goof off, mostly because Dean was managing to do it enough for the both of them. Plus, he didn’t really want to get excited about starting something with Mason, then have to leave her in a few days.

“Quit talking like there’s something there, Sam. You don’t even know if she’s single or not.”

Well, I didn’t see a ring…

“Yeah, and you weren’t exactly seeking one out, either.”

How could you not notice she didn’t have a huge ass stone on her finger?

“Okay, I am now going to stop arguing with myself. I’m going to go take a nice, long, hot—”

Sam’s cell phone rang and he cursed the tiny silver device. Plucking it from his jacket pocket, he frowned at the unfamiliar number on the screen. “Hello?”

“Agent Walsh?”

Sam nearly dropped his phone in surprise at Mason’s voice, but caught it before it could hit the floor. “Uh, yes…Lieutenant. What can I do for you?”

“Are you busy?”

“Not at the moment, but—”

“Good, then you can meet me at Danny’s Diner.” If Sam didn’t know any better, he would say she was annoyed with something.

“Uh, sure…just give me some time to change.”

“I’ll see you in twenty minutes.” She hung up before he could say anything else.

Did I say annoyed? I think she’s downright pissed off. This is so not going to be good…

X-Austed Night Club

Kill me…kill me…kill me…kill me…

Dean couldn’t stop those two words from playing in his head. Vampire…ghost…zombie…hell, give me a demon—anything to get me out of this godforsaken place.

The one good thing to come out of this little excursion was that it helped him remember why he preferred little hole-in-the-wall bars over thumping, overcrowded nightclubs. Sure, bars had their fill of rowdy patrons on any given Friday or Saturday night, but that was a drunk rowdy where he could easily swindle them out of their weekly paychecks. He couldn’t do that here—instead, he got lap dances from liquored-up broads, a pounding headache for the techno drivel they called music, and suicidal tendencies. Add to that, it was damn near impossible to talk to Sophie.

“Dean, what’s wrong, sweetie?” Sophie yelled as she practically plopped down on top of him, a little of her martini spilling onto his shirt.

Son of a bitch… “I didn’t know it was so noisy in here!”

“You’re in Miami, baby! We always do it loud!” She laughed as she took a sip of her drink.

“I was wondering if you and I could talk?”

“In here?”

“Is there someplace quieter in here?”

Sophie glanced around the room before standing up and pulling Dean to his feet, all the while maintaining her grip on her martini. She led him to a semi-secluded spot underneath the staircase. “Is this better?”

Dean nodded. “Much. Listen, I was wondering if you could tell me about Chloe?”

Sophie looked confused. “What about her?”

“You were the last person to see her before she died, right?”

Sophie quickly sobered up long enough for fear to cloud her features. “Who are you? Why are you interested in Chloe?”

Dean sighed. This is why you don’t try to talk to a drunk chick. “So you remember my brother you met earlier?”

Sophie frowned as she tried to recall the last couple of hours. Finally, she broke out into a grin. “The really tall one?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. He’s actually investigating all of the DeLisle murders and I offered to help him out.”

The model slapped his chest. “Why didn’t you say so?”

Because you never would have remembered… “It slipped my mind, I guess.” He turned her head back towards him as she lost interest. “Sophie, what can you tell me about Chloe?”

“She was a model.”

“Yeah, I know that. What else?”

Sophie shrugged. “There’s not much else to tell. We came here that night, we went home, and I found her dead the next morning.”

“Anything else?”

“Um…” She lost focus once again as she began to move her body to the music. “Oh! I do remember something!”

Finally! “What is it?”

“I puked on her Jimmy Choos.”

“Her what?”

“Jimmy Choos! Only one of the best shoes out there.” She frowned. “You know, she acted like she wasn’t pissed but I know she was totally pissed. Those shoes cost mucho dinero.”

Any time a vamp wants to bust through the doors would be great… “So, you saw nothing?”

Sophie downed the last of her drink and shook her head. “Sorry.”

Dean smiled tightly, wishing he could say he was sorry, too, but for a completely different reason. Tonight had been nothing but a total waste and he was actually glad and jealous Sam didn’t come along. A person shouldn’t have to go through this misery alone if at all.

“Well, listen, I really think I should be going,” Dean said.

“You can’t leave yet! The fun is just beginning!” Sophie yelled as another song began thumping over the speakers. “Let’s dance!”

Before Dean could even let the words register in his brain, the wasted model was dragging him onto the crowded dance floor.

Danny’s Diner

Fortunately for Sam, the diner was only about a five minute drive from the motel. Unfortunately for him, when he walked through the doors, he immediately spotted Mason with a less-than-pleased look on her face. He only thought she sounded pissed on the phone, but seeing her expression in person, he was sure she could kill a man by looking at him.

Looks like I’m going to be the one in the line of fire…

He momentarily played with the idea that he still had time to bail since he was sure he hadn’t been spotted yet. Sam even went so far as to take a step back towards the door, but just as he did that, it was as if she sensed his intentions. Her gaze finally landed on him and if anything, it seemed her anger intensified by three levels.

Oh, crap…

As Sam slowly made his way to the back of the diner, he started to come up with excuses as to why she could be angry. Maybe she found out something new about the case that didn’t sit well with her. Maybe her superiors finally came down on her and she was about to be pulled from the case. Maybe…well, he was running out of “maybes.” The one thing he did know was that he didn’t like a woman being pissed at him; that was more of Dean’s forte.

“Lieutenant Mason…” he began but she cut him off.

“Have a seat, Agent.”

Crapcrapcrap…

Sam hesitantly slid in the booth, trying in vain to keep the apprehension off his face.

“Do FBI agents normally wear street clothes?”

“Oh…” Sam looked down at his faded blue jeans, white tee covered with a blue plaid button-down shirt and work boots. “I’m off duty now.”

Mason smiled tightly. “Or it could be you’re not really an FBI agent, are you?” she demanded, her arms folded across her chest.

“Oh, well, I—”

“Save it—I checked into you since it’s customary when we accept help from an outside agency. There is no Agent Sam Walsh listed. There’s a Tom, Michael, Jane, hell even a Lincoln Walsh, but you are nowhere to be found.”

“I can explain that—”

“Don’t bother. You know, I can arrest your ass right now—impersonating a federal agent, interfering with a police investigation, and any other charge I feel like sticking to you. For all I know, you’re the one behind all the murders.”

Sam stared her in the eyes. “Do you really believe that?” he asked softly.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. What does matter is that you could have seriously screwed up my case. And honestly, that doesn’t bother me as much as you seriously jeopardizing the career I have fought tooth and nail to build for myself.”

“That was never my intention, Lieutenant.”

“Then you had better start telling me your intentions.” She pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slammed them on the table, causing the few patrons in the diner to look their way. She ignored them as she continued to glare at Sam. “If you don’t start telling me the truth, so help me God, I will arrest your ass and make a public scene about it. I actually pray that you resist arrest so I can slap another charge on you.”

Sam ducked his head as he absently began to play with the corner of his worn laminated menu. A waitress came over to try to take their orders, but Mason sent her away with a clipped, “Not now.”

“You’ll never believe me so you may as well arrest me now,” Sam said quietly.

“I can believe a lot. I’ve heard every story known to man.”

Sam lifted his eyes and grinned faintly. “I bet you anything you haven’t heard mine.”

Mason sighed as she began to rise from the table. “If this is another one of your games—”

Sam held up a hand to stop her and she lowered back to her seat. “I promise you it’s not. It’s just something that’s hard to explain to a normal person.”

“If you look up ‘normal’ in a dictionary, I can guarantee you’re not going to find my picture there.”

“Okay.” Sam let out a deep breath, trying to think of a way to explain it without having her freak out and arrest him out of spite. “I’m a hunter.”

Mason rolled her eyes. “So is every other male in the southern region.”

“Not that kind of hunter.”

“What other kind is there?”

“Do you remember all those stories from when you were a kid: the monster under the bed, the Boogeyman, or any other terrifying creature that came from your imagination just to get a scare out of you?”

Mason nodded slowly.

“They’re real—every single one of them, not to mention ghosts, vampires, demons, and countless others you’ve seen in movies.”

“Is this your lame attempt at a joke?”

Sam arched a brow. “Do you see me laughing?”

“But those things aren’t real. Like you said, they were just made up to scare us when we were kids.”

“I wish I could tell you I was wrong, that they did just live in your imagination. But I’m not. That’s what we’re doing down here in Florida, my brother and I.”

“But I—”

“All those deaths that have been plaguing the city? They’re not down to some crazed psychopath. There’s something supernatural behind those deaths.”

“That can’t be…”

“You heard what Doctor Jarvik said—the souls were drained from the victims’ bodies. Now, what kind of human being can do that?”

“But the doc was just saying things, trying to come up with the most insane idea out there.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“No…”

“Neither do I.” Sam sighed. “Look, I can see you’re having a hard time with this and I can’t say that I blame you. It was hard for me to believe when I first learned about this, years ago.”

Mason didn’t say anything, though Sam could see she was trying in vain to come up with something.

“I’ll make it easier for you.” Sam picked up the handcuffs and slapped one on his left wrist, while holding out his right one to her. “You can either arrest me or we can part ways now and you can just chalk this up to the ramblings of a crazy man.”

Mason looked up at him, studying his expression for the longest time and for a second Sam really thought she was going to throw his ass in the slammer or local sanitarium. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a key. Inserting it into the lock, she released his hand and stowed the cuffs away. “You forgot about option three.”

“What is that?”

“I may be crazy for even going along with this, but you could stick around and try to explain this to me a little more.”

“Are you saying that you believe me?”

Mason shook her head. “I’m not saying anything for sure right now, but I’m also not saying you’re wrong about this.”

Sam nodded, flashing her a relieved grin. “That’s something, I guess.”

“So…can I start off with an easy question?”

“Sure.”

“Is your name really Sam?”

Sam chuckled. “It’s Samuel actually, but I go by Sam.”

“Okay, Sam…so, how exactly did you get into this life, anyway?”

“I didn’t choose it…” he said, not really caring to elaborate any further on it.

Mason got the hint. “No, I can’t imagine anyone would. Can I ask what exactly is it we’re dealing with here?”

“You can ask, but I’m not sure I can really give you an answer. I’m still doing some research on it.”

“You said you had a brother down here with you?”

“Yeah, an older brother—Dean.”

“Why isn’t he here with you now?”

“Am I being interrogated here?” Sam teased.

Mason ducked her head bashfully. “Sorry, I sometimes forget I’m a cop.”

“It’s okay. Actually, Dean’s working on a different angle right now.”

“Oh.”

Sam was about to say something to ease her from her embarrassment when a flash of movement from outside the large picture window caught his eye. At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but he knew he wasn’t imagining this.

“Sam, what is it?”

Sam didn’t look at her. “Mason, did Chloe Saunders have a twin sister?”

“No, she was an only child. Why?”

Sam nodded towards the blonde outside the diner. “Because if she doesn’t, then I’d say she looks pretty good for a dead girl.”

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