Post by Dean Winchester on Jan 6, 2015 10:47:33 GMT -5
ooc; SEASON TWO. EPISODE FIFTEEN.
The Winchester brothers had been in Springfield Ohio now for three days, working a case. A case that they had gotten nowhere on thus far. At every turn, all they seemed to run into were dead ends and their frustration was mounting. The tension in the motel room on that third day was as thick as heavy fog. Sam sat at the table, paging through several large, dusty, leather-bound books with a look of irritation plastered across his face. Dean lay on Sam's bed, propped up by pillows and eating chili cheese fries straight from a disposable plate, also looking a bit disgruntled. Sam ran a hand across his face in exhaustion and then shifted in his chair so he was facing Dean. "Dude. You mind not eating those on MY bed?" His tone was clearly annoyed. "No, I don't mind." Looking straight at Sam, Dean lifted another messy batch of the fries and dropped them into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he rested his head against the pillows. "So how's the research going?"
Sam dropped the book he'd been holding back onto the tabletop with a loud thud. "You know how it's going? Slow. You know how it would go a hell of a lot faster? If I had my computer!" Oh so they were back to that argument, were they? Dean rolled his eyes and nodded sarcastically, not even bothering to dignify the not so subtle accusation with a response other than, "Hmm." Sam looked anything but amused. "Will you turn that down please" he snapped, pointing at the radio next to Dean. "Yeah, absolutely." Dean nodded in agreement before reaching over and spinning the volume knob up rather than down. Sam threw up his arms, frustrated, speaking louder to be heard over the blaring music. "You know what...maybe you should leave. Just get out for awhile." This comment sparked Dean's own bubbling irritation. He sat up straighter on the bed, glaring pointedly. "Hey, I'd love to. That's a great idea. Unfortunately, my car's all screwed to hell." Just the memory of seeing his baby's wheels slashed made him physically ill.
Sam gave a grouchy sigh. "Dean, for the last time, I told you, I had nothing to do wi"- His protests were cut off by the sound of a loud knock on their door. For a minute neither moved, both seeming content to just wait it out until the other gave in. And then finally, Sam, the less lazy of the two, rolled his eyes, stood, and crossed the room in two strides to peer out the peephole for a glimpse of their visitor. Dean watched him curiously. After just a second of this, Sam pulled back from the door, the knob in his hand, opening it wide. "Boys." Bobby stood on the other side of the threshold, hands in his pockets. He eyed them skeptically for a minute, probably wondering what took them so long to answer his knock. Then he stepped inside and Sam closed the door behind him. "Hey Bobby." Bobby nodded his head in greeting. "Good to see you again so soon." Dean rose from the bed, leaving the greasy plate where it was, and shook Bobby's hand firmly. "Well thanks for coming." Bobby shrugged this off good-naturedly before asking with a raised eyebrow, "so what didn't you want to talk to me on the phone about?" The boys swapped a look. Finally, Sam pulled a chair out at the table for Bobby to lower himself into and scratched absently at his neck. "Well...it's this case we're working on. We weren't sure you'd believe us." Bobby scoffed at the idea. "I can believe a lot." "I know" Sam assured him. "It's just...well...we've never seen anything like it"- "Not even close" Dean added vehemently before Sam finished with, "and we just thought we could use some fresh eyes." Dean nodded in agreement once more. Bobby considered this for a minute and then adjusted his cap and nodded, getting ready.
"Ok, well why don't you start at the beginning."
The Winchester brothers had been in Springfield Ohio now for three days, working a case. A case that they had gotten nowhere on thus far. At every turn, all they seemed to run into were dead ends and their frustration was mounting. The tension in the motel room on that third day was as thick as heavy fog. Sam sat at the table, paging through several large, dusty, leather-bound books with a look of irritation plastered across his face. Dean lay on Sam's bed, propped up by pillows and eating chili cheese fries straight from a disposable plate, also looking a bit disgruntled. Sam ran a hand across his face in exhaustion and then shifted in his chair so he was facing Dean. "Dude. You mind not eating those on MY bed?" His tone was clearly annoyed. "No, I don't mind." Looking straight at Sam, Dean lifted another messy batch of the fries and dropped them into his mouth. After chewing and swallowing, he rested his head against the pillows. "So how's the research going?"
Sam dropped the book he'd been holding back onto the tabletop with a loud thud. "You know how it's going? Slow. You know how it would go a hell of a lot faster? If I had my computer!" Oh so they were back to that argument, were they? Dean rolled his eyes and nodded sarcastically, not even bothering to dignify the not so subtle accusation with a response other than, "Hmm." Sam looked anything but amused. "Will you turn that down please" he snapped, pointing at the radio next to Dean. "Yeah, absolutely." Dean nodded in agreement before reaching over and spinning the volume knob up rather than down. Sam threw up his arms, frustrated, speaking louder to be heard over the blaring music. "You know what...maybe you should leave. Just get out for awhile." This comment sparked Dean's own bubbling irritation. He sat up straighter on the bed, glaring pointedly. "Hey, I'd love to. That's a great idea. Unfortunately, my car's all screwed to hell." Just the memory of seeing his baby's wheels slashed made him physically ill.
Sam gave a grouchy sigh. "Dean, for the last time, I told you, I had nothing to do wi"- His protests were cut off by the sound of a loud knock on their door. For a minute neither moved, both seeming content to just wait it out until the other gave in. And then finally, Sam, the less lazy of the two, rolled his eyes, stood, and crossed the room in two strides to peer out the peephole for a glimpse of their visitor. Dean watched him curiously. After just a second of this, Sam pulled back from the door, the knob in his hand, opening it wide. "Boys." Bobby stood on the other side of the threshold, hands in his pockets. He eyed them skeptically for a minute, probably wondering what took them so long to answer his knock. Then he stepped inside and Sam closed the door behind him. "Hey Bobby." Bobby nodded his head in greeting. "Good to see you again so soon." Dean rose from the bed, leaving the greasy plate where it was, and shook Bobby's hand firmly. "Well thanks for coming." Bobby shrugged this off good-naturedly before asking with a raised eyebrow, "so what didn't you want to talk to me on the phone about?" The boys swapped a look. Finally, Sam pulled a chair out at the table for Bobby to lower himself into and scratched absently at his neck. "Well...it's this case we're working on. We weren't sure you'd believe us." Bobby scoffed at the idea. "I can believe a lot." "I know" Sam assured him. "It's just...well...we've never seen anything like it"- "Not even close" Dean added vehemently before Sam finished with, "and we just thought we could use some fresh eyes." Dean nodded in agreement once more. Bobby considered this for a minute and then adjusted his cap and nodded, getting ready.
"Ok, well why don't you start at the beginning."
