Post by Sam Winchester on Jun 9, 2015 19:06:51 GMT -5
ooc; SEASON FOUR. EPISODE EIGHT.
"It just doesn't make any sense, Dean" Sam declared in a low voice as the brothers sat at a restaurant table, finishing their meals. "I mean, why would Uriel tell me you remembered Hell if you didn't?" Dean lifted one of the five shot glasses lined up in front of him and drained its contents. "Maybe because he's a dick" he countered flatly. "Might have something to do with it." "Maybe" Sam agreed, watching as Dean lifted a second shot glass and drained that as well. "But he's still an angel." "Yeah, an angel who was ready to level an entire town" Dean argued, lowering the empty shot glass to the table and picking up the third, without drinking from it yet. "Look, I don't know what"- He stopped talking abruptly as their very cheerful waiter approached the table, a big smile already in place. "Radical. What else can I get you guys?" "Uh, I think we're good" Sam informed him with a small smile, flicking his eyes from the waiter to Dean and then back to the waiter, who was asking, "You want to try a couple of fryer bombs? Or a chipotle chili changa?" "No, no, we're -- we're still good" Dean promised, his own smile a little strained. "Ok, awesome." The waiter moved off and Dean resumed what he'd been about to say earlier, in a low, tense voice. "Sam, honestly, I have no idea why Uriel told you what he did, okay?" Sam wanted to believe him. He did. But it wasn't hard to miss the way Dean's behavior had changed since returning from hell. And it had been getting more and more apparent as the days wore on. "Right" Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes. Dean downed the third shot and then set its empty glass back on the table crossly. "What?" Sam pushed his plate aside and leaned forward, elbows on the table, staring straight at Dean. "Okay. Fine. Then look me in the eye and tell me you don't remember a thing from your time down under" he challenged.
Dean rolled his eyes, looking for a minute like he might refuse, and then pushed his own plate aside and leaned forward so that they were practically nose to nose. "I don't remember a thing from my time down under" he recited tonelessly, before adding with a little more edge, "I don't remember, Sam!" Sam leaned back in his seat, frustrated, sure he would have seen some kind of flicker or sign in his brother's eyes indicating he was lying but there had been nothing. Blank slate. "Look, Dean, I just want to help" he promised sincerely. "You know everything I do" Dean insisted, swigging the forth shot, then settling back in his own chair as well. "Okay? That's all there is." Sam opened his mouth but their waiter was back again. "Outstanding. Dessert time? Huh? Am I right?" "Dude" Dean began in exasperation but the waiter kept going. "Listen, bros. You have got to try our ice cream extreme." He leaned in and lowered his voice as though he was about to divulge some huge secret. "It's extreme." "Uh, no extremities, please" Sam declined, doing his best to smile, though it may have looked more like a grimace at that point. "Just the-" "Check" the waiter finished jovially, pulling it from their apron and handing it over. "Alright, awesome." Sam nodded, accepting it. "Thanks."
There was awkward silence at the table for a few minutes. Finally Dean finished off his last shot and picked up his half-empty mug of beer while questioning, "All right, so, where do we go from here" clearly ready to change the subject. And while Sam was not quite so ready, he begrudgingly had to admit that it didn't seem as though he was going to get much more than he just did out of Dean at the moment, so he'd have to try again later. "I'm not sure" he admitted, reaching down to pull his computer free of its bag on the ground by his feet and set it up on the table. "Uh, looks like it's been pretty quiet lately. No signs of demon activity, no omens of any kind I can see." Dean swirled the remaining beer around in his glass absently. "Well that's good news for once." "Yeah" Sam agreed, opening the computer and beginning to punch a few keys to bring up the page he'd bookmarked earlier. "Just the typical smattering of crank UFO sightings and one possible vengeful spirit. Here, check this out." He passed the computer over the table to his brother who took it and placed it beside him, scanning the page while Sam continued to explain. "Uh... Up in Concrete, Washington, eyewitness reports of a ghost that's been haunting the showers of a women's health facility." As soon as the words "women's heath facility" were out of his mouth, Dean choked on the beer he'd been finishing up, and closed Sam's laptop without looking at it. "Uh...the victim claims that the ghost threw her down a flight of stairs" Sam went on as Dean practically catapulted to his feet, clearly not paying attention to whatever Sam had said past "women's health facility". "I can see you're very interested" he observed. Dean pulled several crisp dollar bills from his wallet and tossed them down onto the table. "Women...showers...we gotta save these people."
~~~
Dean dropped Sam off at a Chinese food restaurant in downtown Concrete where he met Candace Armstrong, the woman who was claiming to have had an encounter with the ghost. "I'm not surprised the spirit world chose to make contact with me" Candace boasted, tossing back her hair. "I'm something of a... natural sensitive." Sam took a second to make sure his expression stayed neutral before saying kindly, "I can sense that about you, Candace, that whole... sensitive thing." Candace smiled a little, then raised an eyebrow. "So, what did you say you're calling your book?" Sam looked down at his notepad, his brain racing. "Oh, well, um..." He verbally stalled for a few more seconds before reaching a decision. "Well, the working title is... "Supernatural." Yeah, I've been crossing the country, gathering stories like yours." He waved one hand dismissively. "But, anyways, you were telling me about your encounter." Candace nodded, sighing dramatically. "Yes, well, once I saw the apparition, that's when I started to run." Sam's focus was distracted by a young couple entering the restaurant and being seated at the booth opposite theirs. The woman was a knockout and the man was, well...not. To be kind. But they were making out pretty passionately, which Sam found odd. Even though looks really SHOULDN'T matter and couples with this degree of difference in appearances should be a normal thing, they really weren't.
Sam, with a little jolt, realized he'd been staring and ignoring Candace so he quickly looked her way again, posing the next question on his list. "And you said the ghost chased you?" "Not just that" Candace corrected. "It knew my name. It kept yelling, "Mrs. Armstrong! Mrs. Armstrong!" And that's when I hit the stairs and fell." Sam did a double take, his pen freezing mid-note. "Wait, you fell? The ghost didn't push you?" "Oh, I don't -- I don't know." Candace tried to backtrack. "I mean, I think it did. Maybe." Sam was starting to feel like something was off here. He frowned curiously. "Did you feel like it meant to hurt you, like it was violent, or..." "It was a ghost" Candace stressed. "I'm lucky to be alive." She shook back her hair again, gearing up to finish her story. "Anyway, I was at the bottom of the stairs, and that's when it got weird." She paused dramatically. "It helped me up." Sam blinked. There were many things he'd been expecting her to possibly say. That was not one of them. "Say that again?" Candace nodded gravely. "Yeah. It helped me up. And it kept saying over and over, "Please, don't tell my mom"." Sam stared.
"Yeah, that's weird."
"It just doesn't make any sense, Dean" Sam declared in a low voice as the brothers sat at a restaurant table, finishing their meals. "I mean, why would Uriel tell me you remembered Hell if you didn't?" Dean lifted one of the five shot glasses lined up in front of him and drained its contents. "Maybe because he's a dick" he countered flatly. "Might have something to do with it." "Maybe" Sam agreed, watching as Dean lifted a second shot glass and drained that as well. "But he's still an angel." "Yeah, an angel who was ready to level an entire town" Dean argued, lowering the empty shot glass to the table and picking up the third, without drinking from it yet. "Look, I don't know what"- He stopped talking abruptly as their very cheerful waiter approached the table, a big smile already in place. "Radical. What else can I get you guys?" "Uh, I think we're good" Sam informed him with a small smile, flicking his eyes from the waiter to Dean and then back to the waiter, who was asking, "You want to try a couple of fryer bombs? Or a chipotle chili changa?" "No, no, we're -- we're still good" Dean promised, his own smile a little strained. "Ok, awesome." The waiter moved off and Dean resumed what he'd been about to say earlier, in a low, tense voice. "Sam, honestly, I have no idea why Uriel told you what he did, okay?" Sam wanted to believe him. He did. But it wasn't hard to miss the way Dean's behavior had changed since returning from hell. And it had been getting more and more apparent as the days wore on. "Right" Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes. Dean downed the third shot and then set its empty glass back on the table crossly. "What?" Sam pushed his plate aside and leaned forward, elbows on the table, staring straight at Dean. "Okay. Fine. Then look me in the eye and tell me you don't remember a thing from your time down under" he challenged.
Dean rolled his eyes, looking for a minute like he might refuse, and then pushed his own plate aside and leaned forward so that they were practically nose to nose. "I don't remember a thing from my time down under" he recited tonelessly, before adding with a little more edge, "I don't remember, Sam!" Sam leaned back in his seat, frustrated, sure he would have seen some kind of flicker or sign in his brother's eyes indicating he was lying but there had been nothing. Blank slate. "Look, Dean, I just want to help" he promised sincerely. "You know everything I do" Dean insisted, swigging the forth shot, then settling back in his own chair as well. "Okay? That's all there is." Sam opened his mouth but their waiter was back again. "Outstanding. Dessert time? Huh? Am I right?" "Dude" Dean began in exasperation but the waiter kept going. "Listen, bros. You have got to try our ice cream extreme." He leaned in and lowered his voice as though he was about to divulge some huge secret. "It's extreme." "Uh, no extremities, please" Sam declined, doing his best to smile, though it may have looked more like a grimace at that point. "Just the-" "Check" the waiter finished jovially, pulling it from their apron and handing it over. "Alright, awesome." Sam nodded, accepting it. "Thanks."
There was awkward silence at the table for a few minutes. Finally Dean finished off his last shot and picked up his half-empty mug of beer while questioning, "All right, so, where do we go from here" clearly ready to change the subject. And while Sam was not quite so ready, he begrudgingly had to admit that it didn't seem as though he was going to get much more than he just did out of Dean at the moment, so he'd have to try again later. "I'm not sure" he admitted, reaching down to pull his computer free of its bag on the ground by his feet and set it up on the table. "Uh, looks like it's been pretty quiet lately. No signs of demon activity, no omens of any kind I can see." Dean swirled the remaining beer around in his glass absently. "Well that's good news for once." "Yeah" Sam agreed, opening the computer and beginning to punch a few keys to bring up the page he'd bookmarked earlier. "Just the typical smattering of crank UFO sightings and one possible vengeful spirit. Here, check this out." He passed the computer over the table to his brother who took it and placed it beside him, scanning the page while Sam continued to explain. "Uh... Up in Concrete, Washington, eyewitness reports of a ghost that's been haunting the showers of a women's health facility." As soon as the words "women's heath facility" were out of his mouth, Dean choked on the beer he'd been finishing up, and closed Sam's laptop without looking at it. "Uh...the victim claims that the ghost threw her down a flight of stairs" Sam went on as Dean practically catapulted to his feet, clearly not paying attention to whatever Sam had said past "women's health facility". "I can see you're very interested" he observed. Dean pulled several crisp dollar bills from his wallet and tossed them down onto the table. "Women...showers...we gotta save these people."
~~~
Dean dropped Sam off at a Chinese food restaurant in downtown Concrete where he met Candace Armstrong, the woman who was claiming to have had an encounter with the ghost. "I'm not surprised the spirit world chose to make contact with me" Candace boasted, tossing back her hair. "I'm something of a... natural sensitive." Sam took a second to make sure his expression stayed neutral before saying kindly, "I can sense that about you, Candace, that whole... sensitive thing." Candace smiled a little, then raised an eyebrow. "So, what did you say you're calling your book?" Sam looked down at his notepad, his brain racing. "Oh, well, um..." He verbally stalled for a few more seconds before reaching a decision. "Well, the working title is... "Supernatural." Yeah, I've been crossing the country, gathering stories like yours." He waved one hand dismissively. "But, anyways, you were telling me about your encounter." Candace nodded, sighing dramatically. "Yes, well, once I saw the apparition, that's when I started to run." Sam's focus was distracted by a young couple entering the restaurant and being seated at the booth opposite theirs. The woman was a knockout and the man was, well...not. To be kind. But they were making out pretty passionately, which Sam found odd. Even though looks really SHOULDN'T matter and couples with this degree of difference in appearances should be a normal thing, they really weren't.
Sam, with a little jolt, realized he'd been staring and ignoring Candace so he quickly looked her way again, posing the next question on his list. "And you said the ghost chased you?" "Not just that" Candace corrected. "It knew my name. It kept yelling, "Mrs. Armstrong! Mrs. Armstrong!" And that's when I hit the stairs and fell." Sam did a double take, his pen freezing mid-note. "Wait, you fell? The ghost didn't push you?" "Oh, I don't -- I don't know." Candace tried to backtrack. "I mean, I think it did. Maybe." Sam was starting to feel like something was off here. He frowned curiously. "Did you feel like it meant to hurt you, like it was violent, or..." "It was a ghost" Candace stressed. "I'm lucky to be alive." She shook back her hair again, gearing up to finish her story. "Anyway, I was at the bottom of the stairs, and that's when it got weird." She paused dramatically. "It helped me up." Sam blinked. There were many things he'd been expecting her to possibly say. That was not one of them. "Say that again?" Candace nodded gravely. "Yeah. It helped me up. And it kept saying over and over, "Please, don't tell my mom"." Sam stared.
"Yeah, that's weird."
