Post by Dean Winchester on Jul 31, 2015 16:28:10 GMT -5
ooc; SEASON FOUR. EPISODE FOURTEEN.
The sudden loud blast of a car's horn roused Dean from his slumber. After a few seconds, in which he yawned and stretched, his gaze finally wandered over to Sam's bed across the room. It was empty. But the bathroom door was open a crack and Sam's low voice could be heard drifting through it. "Yeah, that's what I'm telling you. No storms, no bad crops, nothing." Dean propped himself up on one elbow to hear Sam's next words better. "Yeah, okay. Well I'll keep looking. You keep looking too, ok?" There was a brief pause and then he finished with, "alright, talk soon. Bye" and hung up. Dean quickly lay back down, closing his eyes in feigned sleep. A few seconds later, he felt Sam nudging him in the arm. "Hey. Up and at 'em, kiddo." Dean opened his eyes, rubbing at them with a forced yawn, acting as he would if this were indeed the first time he'd woken that day. "You're up early" he observed. "What were you doing?" "Nothing, I was in the can" Sam replied casually, no mention of the phone call that had taken place. "Yeah" Dean prompted, waiting. "Yeah." Sam chuckled. "You want me to draw you a picture?" "No, I want you to tell me about your secret phone call" Dean thought sourly but aloud all he said was, "nah, I'll pass", pushing back the sheets and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
"Found us a job" Sam informed him next, reaching over to snatch up the folded newspaper on his bed and toss it to Dean. "Bedford, Iowa. Guy beat his wife's brains out with a meat tenderizer." Dean made a face. "Yikes." "Yeah." Sam nodded grimly. "And get this. Third local inside two months to gank his wife. No priors on any of 'em, all happily married." "Sounds like Ozzie and Harriet" Dean deadpanned, corrected by Sam's smirking comment of, "more like The Shining." Dean couldn't help smiling a little at that. "All right, well I guess we'd better have a look" he agreed, standing and tossing the paper back to Sam lazily. He waited for another second, hoping Sam would fess up about whoever he'd been talking to and take the sinking sensation deep within Dean's gut away, but no such luck. All that happened was that Sam began to throw things into his duffel bag, packing for their departure. This couldn't be good.
In Dean's experience, people rarely hid good things.
The sudden loud blast of a car's horn roused Dean from his slumber. After a few seconds, in which he yawned and stretched, his gaze finally wandered over to Sam's bed across the room. It was empty. But the bathroom door was open a crack and Sam's low voice could be heard drifting through it. "Yeah, that's what I'm telling you. No storms, no bad crops, nothing." Dean propped himself up on one elbow to hear Sam's next words better. "Yeah, okay. Well I'll keep looking. You keep looking too, ok?" There was a brief pause and then he finished with, "alright, talk soon. Bye" and hung up. Dean quickly lay back down, closing his eyes in feigned sleep. A few seconds later, he felt Sam nudging him in the arm. "Hey. Up and at 'em, kiddo." Dean opened his eyes, rubbing at them with a forced yawn, acting as he would if this were indeed the first time he'd woken that day. "You're up early" he observed. "What were you doing?" "Nothing, I was in the can" Sam replied casually, no mention of the phone call that had taken place. "Yeah" Dean prompted, waiting. "Yeah." Sam chuckled. "You want me to draw you a picture?" "No, I want you to tell me about your secret phone call" Dean thought sourly but aloud all he said was, "nah, I'll pass", pushing back the sheets and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
"Found us a job" Sam informed him next, reaching over to snatch up the folded newspaper on his bed and toss it to Dean. "Bedford, Iowa. Guy beat his wife's brains out with a meat tenderizer." Dean made a face. "Yikes." "Yeah." Sam nodded grimly. "And get this. Third local inside two months to gank his wife. No priors on any of 'em, all happily married." "Sounds like Ozzie and Harriet" Dean deadpanned, corrected by Sam's smirking comment of, "more like The Shining." Dean couldn't help smiling a little at that. "All right, well I guess we'd better have a look" he agreed, standing and tossing the paper back to Sam lazily. He waited for another second, hoping Sam would fess up about whoever he'd been talking to and take the sinking sensation deep within Dean's gut away, but no such luck. All that happened was that Sam began to throw things into his duffel bag, packing for their departure. This couldn't be good.
In Dean's experience, people rarely hid good things.
