Post by Dean Winchester on Sept 5, 2016 9:44:16 GMT -5
ooc; SEASON SIX. EPISODE NINE.
"There was this light. And then Patrick just vanished. What happened to him? Something took him! I know it!"
"My name is Wayne Whitticker Jr. I’m here because I believe that Elwood Indiana has become a center of extraterrestrial activity. I have personally recorded dozens of eyewitness accounts, strange lights in the sky, mysterious presences attempting contact. Now we are right in the middle of what we in the field like to call a “UFO flap,” and I am as happy as a pig in shoes."
"Since this whole damned circus has blown into town, no one seems to realize we got four missing persons cases wide open. My friends lost loved ones. I can guarantee you that this has nothing to do with UFO’s, little green men. Nothing extraterrestrial whatsoever."
"Of course it's not UFOs. It's fairies!"
Dean stared. He and Sam had been combing the town of Elwood Indiana for an hour now, picking up all sorts of townsfolk accounts of what had been going on recently and Dean had sworn he'd heard it all. Until now.
"Fairies" he repeated, struggling to keep his expression from giving away his true feelings. Marion, the plump blond woman across from them smiled and nodded, truly seeming to believe what she'd just spouted off. "Well..." Dean's return smile was strained. "Thank you for your input." He turned to walk away, stopped by the sound of Sam's voice. "What? Flying saucers not insane enough for you?" Marion frowned. "What newspaper did you say you worked for again?" Dean opened his mouth to intervene but Sam spoke over him, making a face. "Okay, if you want to add glitter to that glue you’re sniffing, that’s fine, but don’t dump your whackadoo all over us. We’d rather not step in it." "Ok, we're done." Dean tucked his "reporter's" notebook and pen into an inner jacket pocket, taking Sam by the arm to lead him away. "The only thing you’re missing is a couple dozen cats, sister" Sam finished bluntly. "It’s a blood sugar thing" Dean informed Marion quickly, nudging Sam in the opposite direction. "My apologies."
Far enough away from Marion, he whacked Sam on the shoulder in exasperation and the younger Winchester gave him a baffled stare. "What??" "What? You gotta ask??" Dean sighed in defeat, realizing, "right, yes, you do have to ask." "Look, I’m sorry, but this is all a big joke, right?" Sam raised an incredulous eyebrow. "We’re not actually taking this UFO crap seriously are we?" "No, man" Dean assured him wearily. "ET is made of rubber. Everybody knows that. But there are four legitimate vanishings in this town. Something’s going on." He pulled the Impala's keys from his pocket as they approached it. "And Sam? By the way, it’s not the lady’s fault that she took the brown acid." Sam's expression remained blank. "Yeah. So?" "Empathy, man. Empathy." Dean waved one hand vaguely in Sam's direction. "I mean, the old Sam would have given her some, some wussified, dew-eyed crap." "Old Sam had a soul" Sam pointed out. "...was a soul. Whatever." "Right" Dean agreed. "Yes, and, and, but you don’t—aren’t. Whatever."
"Right" Sam agreed with Dean's agreement. "You don't care" Dean went on, feeling, like he often did with this new Sam, like he was slamming his head into a brick wall. "You have to care!" Sam frowned. "About what exactly?" "About everything" Dean exploded before calming down and lowering his voice to reduce the stares from passerby. "About being human, at least." Sam sighed heavily. "Look, Dean. You obviously care. A lot. And that’s great. But I can’t care about what—I can’t care about it, you know?" Dean stopped walking, massaging his temples in exhaustion. "What do you want me to do" Sam demanded, looking about as frustrated as Dean felt. "Fake it?" "Yes." Dean pointed at his brother with a snap. "Absolutely. Fake it til you make it." He resumed walking. "What happened to you wanting me to be all honest" Sam wanted to know as they reached the car, Dean staying on the driver's side and Sam moving around to the passenger side. Dean shrugged, opening up the driver's side door. "Hey, you wanna be a real boy, Pinnochio, you gotta act the part." "I was faking it Dean" Sam exclaimed. "Ever since we got back on the road together, I was picking every freaking word. It’s exhausting!" Dean held up his hands, relenting. "Okay. All Right. But until we get you back on the soul train, I’ll be your conscience, okay?" Sam considered this. "So you’re saying you’ll be my… Jiminy Cricket." "Shut up" was Dean's automatic counter before really having time to let the words settle. They actually fit his metaphor nicely. "But yeah you friggen puppet" he finished with a dry smile.
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
"There was this light. And then Patrick just vanished. What happened to him? Something took him! I know it!"
"My name is Wayne Whitticker Jr. I’m here because I believe that Elwood Indiana has become a center of extraterrestrial activity. I have personally recorded dozens of eyewitness accounts, strange lights in the sky, mysterious presences attempting contact. Now we are right in the middle of what we in the field like to call a “UFO flap,” and I am as happy as a pig in shoes."
"Since this whole damned circus has blown into town, no one seems to realize we got four missing persons cases wide open. My friends lost loved ones. I can guarantee you that this has nothing to do with UFO’s, little green men. Nothing extraterrestrial whatsoever."
"Of course it's not UFOs. It's fairies!"
Dean stared. He and Sam had been combing the town of Elwood Indiana for an hour now, picking up all sorts of townsfolk accounts of what had been going on recently and Dean had sworn he'd heard it all. Until now.
"Fairies" he repeated, struggling to keep his expression from giving away his true feelings. Marion, the plump blond woman across from them smiled and nodded, truly seeming to believe what she'd just spouted off. "Well..." Dean's return smile was strained. "Thank you for your input." He turned to walk away, stopped by the sound of Sam's voice. "What? Flying saucers not insane enough for you?" Marion frowned. "What newspaper did you say you worked for again?" Dean opened his mouth to intervene but Sam spoke over him, making a face. "Okay, if you want to add glitter to that glue you’re sniffing, that’s fine, but don’t dump your whackadoo all over us. We’d rather not step in it." "Ok, we're done." Dean tucked his "reporter's" notebook and pen into an inner jacket pocket, taking Sam by the arm to lead him away. "The only thing you’re missing is a couple dozen cats, sister" Sam finished bluntly. "It’s a blood sugar thing" Dean informed Marion quickly, nudging Sam in the opposite direction. "My apologies."
Far enough away from Marion, he whacked Sam on the shoulder in exasperation and the younger Winchester gave him a baffled stare. "What??" "What? You gotta ask??" Dean sighed in defeat, realizing, "right, yes, you do have to ask." "Look, I’m sorry, but this is all a big joke, right?" Sam raised an incredulous eyebrow. "We’re not actually taking this UFO crap seriously are we?" "No, man" Dean assured him wearily. "ET is made of rubber. Everybody knows that. But there are four legitimate vanishings in this town. Something’s going on." He pulled the Impala's keys from his pocket as they approached it. "And Sam? By the way, it’s not the lady’s fault that she took the brown acid." Sam's expression remained blank. "Yeah. So?" "Empathy, man. Empathy." Dean waved one hand vaguely in Sam's direction. "I mean, the old Sam would have given her some, some wussified, dew-eyed crap." "Old Sam had a soul" Sam pointed out. "...was a soul. Whatever." "Right" Dean agreed. "Yes, and, and, but you don’t—aren’t. Whatever."
"Right" Sam agreed with Dean's agreement. "You don't care" Dean went on, feeling, like he often did with this new Sam, like he was slamming his head into a brick wall. "You have to care!" Sam frowned. "About what exactly?" "About everything" Dean exploded before calming down and lowering his voice to reduce the stares from passerby. "About being human, at least." Sam sighed heavily. "Look, Dean. You obviously care. A lot. And that’s great. But I can’t care about what—I can’t care about it, you know?" Dean stopped walking, massaging his temples in exhaustion. "What do you want me to do" Sam demanded, looking about as frustrated as Dean felt. "Fake it?" "Yes." Dean pointed at his brother with a snap. "Absolutely. Fake it til you make it." He resumed walking. "What happened to you wanting me to be all honest" Sam wanted to know as they reached the car, Dean staying on the driver's side and Sam moving around to the passenger side. Dean shrugged, opening up the driver's side door. "Hey, you wanna be a real boy, Pinnochio, you gotta act the part." "I was faking it Dean" Sam exclaimed. "Ever since we got back on the road together, I was picking every freaking word. It’s exhausting!" Dean held up his hands, relenting. "Okay. All Right. But until we get you back on the soul train, I’ll be your conscience, okay?" Sam considered this. "So you’re saying you’ll be my… Jiminy Cricket." "Shut up" was Dean's automatic counter before really having time to let the words settle. They actually fit his metaphor nicely. "But yeah you friggen puppet" he finished with a dry smile.
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
