Supernatural (Episode Series Project)

[Wolfwings22]

These are wonderful! I’ve been busy, but I managed to get myself caught up and I keep loving these more and more!

[Seeker]

On 8/3/2018 at 9:17 AM, castiel_angel said:

But if it was, he would've acted strange beforehand, like dementia, loss of motor—huh’ITSCH’eww! control. You ever notice anything like that?”

Just re-reading while I wait 😁 Love me some Sam. And today I loved this part so much 😊

[castiel_angel]

6 hours ago, Wolfwings22 said:

These are wonderful! I’ve been busy, but I managed to get myself caught up and I keep loving these more and more!

Thank you so much! I’m so glad you were able to catch up💗

[castiel_angel]

4 hours ago, ReidSeeker said:

Just re-reading while I wait 😁 Love me some Sam. And today I loved this part so much 😊

I’ll get the next one up soon, promise😉❤️ 

[castiel_angel]

Back with more, I’m extremely sorry about the wait. I know I’m a jerk, bitch, assbutt, you name it, but I was on vacation for a while and was desperately getting things together before school starts up so I apologize greatly! I haven’t forgotten about this and I’m really sorry about the wait😬 Again, super duper sorry! 

(Sorry about the Drabble thread, but I want those to be perfect and I’m not feeling the right inspiration tonight)

———————————————————————————————————————————————

S01 EP9 “Home”

Characters: Sam, Dean

Plot: Sam has a nightmare that he believes to be a vision of their childhood house and convinces a reluctant Dean that they need to go back home. They soon discover that the new owners are being plagued by what could be the same thing that killed their mother 22 years ago.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

 

Lawrence, Kansas

 

A young woman, Jenny, is sitting on the floor of her home, unpacking boxes that lie on the wooden floors of her new home. She comes across a photo of herself and her husband at their wedding. She begins to cry as tears slid down her cheeks. 

 

“Mommy?” Jenny’s daughter Sari asks,  coming into the room. 

 

“Hey, sweetie. Why aren’t you in bed?”

 

“There’s something in my closet.”

 

Jenny smiles sympathetically at her daughter, taking her by the hand up the stairs to her room. 

 

She opens the closet doors and looks inside as Sari watches from her bed.

 

“See? There’s nothing there.”

 

“You sure?” Sari asks nervously.

 

“I’m sure. Now, come on. Get into bed.” Sari reluctantly crawls into bed and Jenny tucks her in gently.

 

“I don’t like this house,” Sari says softly.

 

“You’re just not used to it yet. But you and your brother and me –- we are going to be very happy here. I promise.” She kisses her on her forehead and smoothes her hair back affectionately.

“I love you.” She turns off the light and gets up to leave the room.

 

“The chair.”

 

“Okay,” Jenny replies. She moves a chair under the doorknob of the closet. Satisfied, Sari lies down and goes to bed. 

After returning to the living room, Jenny continues unpacking boxes. She stops when she hears the sound of scratching coming from the basement.

 

“Please, God, don’t let it be rats,” she said aloud. An extra bill was the last thing she needed.

A few moments later, Jenny goes downstairs into the basement with a flashlight. She tries turning on a light, but the switches don’t work.

 

“Terrific,” she says with a sigh.

———————————————

Sari blinks awake as the sound of chair legs makes its way across the carpet. The chair begins moving on its own, away from the closet doors. Sari sits up in her bed, wide-eyed and afraid. 

 

Back in the basement, Jenny keeps looking around. On the floor, she sees a large black trunk. She kneels down and opens it, pulling out old photos of the Winchester family. Written on the back of a picture are the words, “The Winchesters. John, Mary, Dean, and Little Sammy.” Jenny smiles. 

 

In Sari’s bedroom, the closet doors open by themselves. Standing in the closet is what looks like a person, but it is entirely made out of fire, each square inch bursting like a wild fire. Sari screams aloud wishing it all to be a terrible dream.

 

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Motel

 

“Huh’AESH’oo!” Dean releases the explosion in the collar of his jacket, wiping his nose carefully.

”Bless you,” Sam says.

”thags,” Dean says congestedly.

Dean is searching on the computer, while Sam is drawing a picture of a tree on an old scrap of paper he found lying around.

 

“All right. I’ve been cruisin’ some websites. I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali –- its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas,” Dean says, eyes scanning across the screen. 

 

“Hey,” he says, glancing at Sam.

 

Sam looks up from his drawing. “Am I boring you with this hunting evil?”

 

“No. I’m listening. Keep—huh- going-huh’itschIEWW!,” Sam replied.

 

“Bless you.”

 

“Thanks,” Sam said, wiping his nose against a tissue that was so used it was practically useless at this point.

 

“And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times.” 

 

“Sammy?

 

He waves his hand in front of Sam’s face.

 

“Any of these things blowin’ up your skirt, pal?”

 

“Wait. I’ve seen this.”

 

“Seen what? “ Dean asks. Sam gets up from the bed and goes searching through his duffel bag.

 

“What are you doing?” Sam finds a photo of their family from when he was a baby. 

 

He compares the tree in the photo to his drawing. They are the same.

 

“Dean, I know where we have to go—itsch’EWW! next.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Back home –- back to Kansas.”

 

“Okay, random. Where’d that come-huh—from?—Oh God—h’AESH’oo! ETSH’eww! huh—huh-h’ASH’oo!”

 

“Jesus Dean, Bless you.” Dean nods in return, walking over to the bed stand to grab a tissue from the box.

 

Sam shows Dean the photo in his hand. “All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?’

 

“Yeah.” Dean said casually, trying hard not to remember what happened that night.

 

“And it didn’t burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?”

 

“h’ETCH’eww! I guess so, yeah. What the hell are you—huh— talkin’ about?—ESH’oo!”

 

“Bless. Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but….the people who live in our old house –- I think they might be in danger.”

 

“Why would you think that?”

 

“Uh…it’s just, um….look, just trust me on this, okay—h’itsch’IEWW!” He starts to walk away, and Dean trails him closely. 

 

“Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?” Dean as incredulously.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Come on, man, that’s weak. You gotta give me a little bit more than that.”

 

“I can’t really explain it is all.”

 

“Well, tough. I’m not goin’ anywhere until you do.” Sam sighs. Dean just stands there waiting expectantly.

 

“I have these nightmares...”

 

nodding, Dean says, “I’ve—huh- noticed—huh’ASH’eww!.”

 

“And sometimes….they come true.”

 

“Come again?” Dean asks with a stunned expression, gingerly wiping his nose. 

 

“Look, Dean….I dreamt about Jessica’s death –- for days before it happened.”

 

“Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence,” Dean says as he sits down on the bed, massaging his temples carefully.

 

“No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn’t do anything about it ‘cause I didn’t believe it. And now I’m dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that’s where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?”

 

“I—I don’t know,” Dean says, scrubbing a hand over his face.

 

Sam sits down across from his brother. “What do you mean you don’t know, Dean?

This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!”

 

“All right, just slow down, would ya?” Dean stands up and begins pacing nervously. “I mean, first you tell me that you’ve got the Shining? And then you tell me that I’ve gotta go back home? Especially when….”

 

“When what?”

 

“When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?” Dean says sadly, tears threatening to fall.

 

“Look, Dean, we have to check this out. Just to make sure,” Sam says softly.

 

“I know we do.”

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Winchester House

 

“You gonna be all right, man?” Sam asks.

 

“Let me get back to you on that,” Dean says, knowing he meant more than just being sick.

 

They get out of the car. After knocking on the front door, Jenny answers it. Sam is shocked that she is the same woman from his dream.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re with the Federal—“ Dean starts.

 

“I’m Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin’ by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place.”

 

“Winchester. Yeah, that’s so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night.”

 

“You did?” Dean asks with a slight sniffle. Jenny nods and steps aside. “Come on in.” They go inside, Dean more reluctant than his brother to walk through the familiar door.

 

Now inside the house, the three of them go to the kitchen. Sari is at the table doing homework. Ritchie, her jumpy kid-brother, is in his playpen.

 

“Juice! Juice! Juice! Juice!” Ritchie shouts, waving his empty bottle in the air.

 

“That’s Ritchie. He’s kind of a juice junkie.” She takes a sippy cup out of the refrigerator and hands it to Ritchie who happily exchanges it with the empty one. 

 

“But, hey, at least he won’t get scurvy.”

 

She walks over to Sari. “Sari, this is Sam and Dean. They used to live here.”

 

“Hi.” She says shyly. Dean waves.

 

“Hey, Sari,” Sam says with a bright smile.

 

“So, you just moved in?” Sam asks, noting the various boxes that lay on the floor.

 

“Yeah, from Wichita,” she replies.

 

‘You got family here, or….?” Dean starts,

 

“No. I just, uh….needed a fresh start, that’s all. So, new town, new job –- I mean, as soon as I find one. New house.”

 

‘So, how you likin’ it so far?” Dean asks.

 

“Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home –- I mean, I’m sure you had lots of happy memories here,” Dean smiles weakly, “But this place has its issues.”

 

“What do you-huh’ITSCH’eww! h’ESH’eww!— mean?” Sam asks.

 

“Bless you. Well, it’s just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We’ve got flickering lights almost hourly.”

 

“Oh, that’s too bad. What else?” Dean persists, hoping to get out of there soon. As each minute ticked by he wished more and more to be laying in bed.

 

“Um…sink’s backed up, there’s rats in the basement.” She pauses. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain.”

 

“No. Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?”

 

‘It’s just the scratching, actually.”

 

“Mommy?” Sari calls from the table. Jenny kneels down next to her. 

 

“Ask them if it was here when they lived here.”

 

‘What, Sari?” Sam asks.

 

“The thing in my closet.” Dean’s jaw clenches.

 

‘Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets. Right?” She asks towards Sam and Dean.

 

“Right. No, no, of course not,” Sam says, glancing towards his brother.

 

‘She had a nightmare the other night,” Jenny explained.

 

“I wasn’t dreaming. It came into my bedroom –- and it was on fire.”

 

Sam and Dean look at each other wide-eyed.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Dean and Sam are walking back to the car.

 

‘You hear that? A figure on fire.”

 

“And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams? h’ESH’oo! huh’AESH’eww!” Dean asks.

 

“Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit.”

 

“Yeah, well, I’m just freaked out that your weird-ass visions are comin’ true.”

 

“Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you—huh’itsch’EWW, think it’s the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?”

 

“I don’t know!” Dean exclaims, breaking off in a harsh cough.

 

“Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?”

 

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely, Sam, we don’t know yet.”

 

“Well, those people are in danger, Dean. We have to get ‘em out of that house.”

 

“And we will,” Dean replies.

 

“No, I mean now.”

 

“Sam, we’re sick! And how you gonna do that, huh? You got a story that she’s gonna believe?”

 

“Then what are we supposed to do?”

 

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Gas Station

 

“We just gotta chill out, that’s all. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?” Dean asks.

 

Sam sighs. “We’d try to figure out what we were dealin’ with. We’d dig into the history of the house.”

 

“Exactly, except this time, we already know what—huh’AESH’oo! happened.”

 

“Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?”

 

“About that night, you mean?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Not much. I remember the fire…the heat,” He pauses for a moment, “And then I carried you out the front door.”

 

“You did?” Sam asks.

 

“Yeah, what, you never knew that?”

 

“No.”

 

“And, well, you know Dad’s story as well as I do. Mom was….was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her.”

 

“And he never had a theory about what-huh’Etsch’EWW! h’ASH’eww!—what did it?”

 

“If he did, he kept it to himself. God knows we asked him enough times.”

 

“Okay. So, if we’re gonna figure out what’s goin’ on now…we have to figure out what happened back—h’ash’ieww! then. And see if it’s the same thing.”

 

“Yeah. We’ll talk to Dad’s friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time.”

 

“Does this feel like just another job to you?” Sam asks after a while. Dean says nothing for a moment.

 

“I’ll be right back. I gotta go to the bathroom.” He walks away. 

 

After turning a corner, he stands next to the bathroom door and takes out his cell phone. After making sure no one can see him, he dials a number.

 

The voicemail box comes on over the receiver. “This is John Winchester. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean at 866-907-3235.” The beep sounds.

 

“Dad? I know I’ve left you messages before. I don’t even know if you’ll get ‘em.” Dean clears his throat.

 “But I’m with Sam. And we’re in Lawrence. And there’s somethin’ in our old house. I don’t know if it’s the thing that killed Mom or not, but….” His voice breaks. He pauses, barely keeping himself together.

 

 “…I don’t know what to do.” 

He begins to cry, the tears slowly sliding down his cheeks. Dean blames the emotion on being sick. 

 

 “So, whatever you’re doin’, if you could get here. Please. I need your help, Dad.” 

He hangs up sadly, with tears in his eyes. 

 

For once he wished everything would be back to normal. Well as normal as the Winchester life could be. 

 

For once he wished Sammy got the life he always wanted.

 

For once he wished Mary was still with him standing right by his side whispering that everything would be alright, because now he wasn’t so sure.

 

———————————————————————————————————————————————

~💗~

Edited August 20, 2018 by castiel_angel

[Seeker]

Oh poor darling boys. So sad 

 

But I love the shared sickness! You weave it in so well! I am eagerly awaiting the next installment 😊

[castiel_angel]

3 minutes ago, ReidSeeker said:

Oh poor darling boys. So sad 

 

But I love the shared sickness! You weave it in so well! I am eagerly awaiting the next installment 😊

I’ll get on with it shortly! (I mean it this time, sorry about the long wait) I really appreciate your feedback💗

[jensdw]

sneezy deeeaaann  yum.

[castiel_angel]

1 hour ago, jensdw said:

sneezy deeeaaann  yum.

Glad you liked:) it’ll be his turn next 😉💗

[castiel_angel]

 

*comes out from the shadows* Hey again!! It’s your favorite failure! *tomatos thrown at face*

I know I’ve a very extensive hiatus to the forum, but I’m ready to get back and at it.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

S01 EP10 “Asylum”

Characters: Sam, Dean

Plot: Every town has its legend, and Sam and Dean set off to figure out one in the heart of Rockville, Illinois.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Rockville, Illinois

A police car pulls up against the curb of the graffitied walls of the old Roosevelt Asylum. Two cops walk up to chain link fence surrounding the building.

 

“Can't keep kids out of this place,” the first one muttered, flashlight hanging loosely in their hand. 

 

“What is it, anyway?” The second one asks. 

 

“I forgot! You're not a local. You don't know the legend.”

 

“Legend?” The cop asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

 

“Every town's got it's stories, right? Ours is Roosevelt Asylum. They say it's haunted with the ghosts of the patients. Spend the night, the spirits will drive you insane.”

The two cops head through the roped off doors.

 

“Hello? Police Officers...Po-lice Officers!” They see the broken chain on the floor, meaning they weren’t the first to investigate the joint.

 

“You telling me these kids brought bolt-cutters? C'mon. Let's split up.”

 

“Right,” the second cop muttered, still dumbfounded at the so-called “legend”.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Now split up, the first cop cautiously enters one of the room. 

“Alright, c'mon out,” he shouts, only to receive no answer besides an echoing off the walls.

He shines his flashlight around the room, gasping as the soft light landed on three kids sitting in the darkness.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

In another room, the second cop carefully creaks open a door and looks carefully around the corner. 

 

A door creaks open across the hall from the officer. He slowly turns to look at the door.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

 

The first cop watches a car drive off then reaches for his radio.

 

“Kelly, you copy?” He mutteres into the speaker. Without warning the officer in question appears behind him.

 

“Jeez! Where the hell you been?” The first officer says, flinching in surprise.

 

“In there...” Officer Kelly says, gesturing toward the chained doorways.

 

“What was it? See anything?”

 

The officer looks up at the sky and adjusts his hat. “Huh. No.”

 

The return to the police car, the visit seemingly a bust.

 

“This is patrol one four. We are clear and returning to station,” the first officer says from behind the wheel into the car radio. 

 

“Roger,” came a staticky reply.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Officer Kelly enters his bedroom, breezing right past the woman sitting on the bed with a book perched in his lap.

 

“Hey,” the woman said, without looking up from the pages.

 

Officer Kelly silently begins lining up his gun, keys, and wallet along the top of the dresser, ignoring the greeting.

 

“So, what? You're still not talking to me? Walt! I said I was sorry about before – how many times do I have to say it?” The woman badgered.

 

Officer Kelly picks up gun, and rolls it round in his hands.

 

—————————

Sounds of gunshot echo through the walls, followed by a brief pause. Another gunshot rings through the nighttime air. 

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

 Motel

 

“No, Dad was in California last we heard from him. We just thought...he comes to you for 'munitions....maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks. Just, call us if you hear anything,” Sam said into the phone.

 

“’kay,” came the voice from the other line.

 

“Thanks,” Sam said.

 

“You bet.” Sam clicked the end button and set his phone down.

 

“Caleb hasn't heard from him?” Dean asked, cutting in.

 

“Nope. And neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. What about the journal? Anything leads in there?”

 

“No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out.... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda.”

 

“You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person’s.”

 

“We've talked about this. Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail.”

 

“I don't care anymore.” 

 

Dean’s cellphone rings from across the room. 

 

“After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean...he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and...nothing.”

 

“I know,” Dean said rummaging through his duffel, “Where the hell is my cellphone?”

 

“You know, he could be dead for all we know,” Sam continued.

 

“Don't say that! He's not dead! He's – he's...”

 

“He's what? He's hiding? He's busy?”

Dean finds and flicks opens the cellphone.

 

—————

Cellphone: Message

From: Unavailable Subject: Message: 42, -89

-9:52

—————

“Huh. I don't believe it,” Dean mumbled quietly.

 

“What?”

 

“It's, uh....It's a text message. It's coordinates”.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Dean open the lid of his laptop, typing away.

 

“You think Dad was texting us?” Sam asked.

 

“He's given us coordinates before.”

 

“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.”

 

“Sam, it's good news! It means he's okay, or alive at least.”

 

“Well, was there a number on the caller ID?”

 

“Nah, it said 'unknown'.”

 

“Well, where do the coordinates point?”

 

“Well—huh—That's the-hih-interesting part. Rockford, Illinois—h’ETSH’eww!”

 

“Bless you. That’s interesting how?

 

“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” Dean turned the laptop toward Sam.

 

“This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And—h’ASH’eww! And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum—tsh’OO!” Dean was forced to duck into his sleeve with each outburst. 

 

“Bless you again. I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?”

 

“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let’s see...” Dean flipped to the pages until he landed on the spot.

 

“Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths – till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”

 

Sam snorts a laugh. “This is a job... Dad wants us to work a job.”

 

“Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?” Dean proposed hopefully. 

 

“h’Esh’EWW! tsh’OO! AESH’eww!”

 

“Bless. You sure going out on another hunt is good for you right now?” Sam questioned, noting Dean’s glazed over expression.

 

”Hm? Why wouldn’t this be a good idea.This is dad we’re talking about, Sam.”

 

“I don’t know, maybe because your sick?”

 

”You said it, not me. Like I said, Dad will probably be waiting there. 

 

“Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing.”

 

“Who cares! If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!” Dean said, jumping off the bed. 

 

“This doesn't strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?”

 

“S-huh-Sam!—hih’TSCH’eww! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'.”

 

Sam makes a bitchface and sighs, throwing the box of tissues at Dean, who just barely catches hold of them.

 

——————————————————————————————————————————————

 

“You're Daniel Gunderson. You're a cop, right?” Dean asks, approaching the first cop who ventured through the asylum.

 

“Yeah,” he replied, clearly not in the mood.

 

“Huh. I'm—uh—Nigel Tufnel, The Chicago Tribune. Mind if I ask you a couple of questions, about your partner?” Dean asked, sniffing lightly. His head was pounding, and the pressure in his sinuses was unsettling.

 

“Yeah, I do. I'm just tryin' to have a beer here,” he replied, shifting in his seat.

 

“That's okay, I swear it won't take that long. I just want to get the story in your words.”

 

A week ago, my partner was sitting in that chair. Now he's dead. You gonna ambush me here?

 

“Sorry. But I need to know what happened,” Dean said, impatient to cut to the chase.

 

Sam came over and pushed Dean aside roughly.

 

“Hey buddy, why don't you leave the poor guy alone! The man's an officer! Why dontcha show a little respect!” Sam exclaimed. Dean pauses, staring, then walks off.

 

“You didn't havta do that,” The Officer said.

 

“Yeah, course I did. That guy's a serious jerk. Let me buy you a beer, huh?” Sam turns towards the bartender, “Two?”

 

“Thanks.”

 

—————————————

A few rounds later, Sam walks out of the bar.

 

“Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy,” Dean said, shifting in his spot against the impala.

“h’ITCH’eww! h’ESH’oo!” Dean sniffed miserably into his jacket, involuntarily shivering.

 

”You sure your okay?”

 

” ‘M fine.‘Ya gave me a hard blow to the shoulder, that’s all.”

 

“I had to sell it, didn't I? It's method acting.”

 

“Huh?” Dean asked.

 

“Never mind.”

 

“What'd you find out from Gunderson?”

 

“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him.” 

 

“What about at h-huh-home—h’ASH’eww!”

 

“Bless you. He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.”

 

“Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him.”

 

“Right.”

 

“What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?”

 

“A lot.”

——————————————

Not long after, Sam and Dean found themselves climbing over the chain-link fence, clambering their way toward the Roosevelt Asylum.

 

“So apparently the cops chased the kids here....into the south wing,” Sam says, indicating a sign that hung over the top of a door.

 

“South wing, huh? Wait a second,” Dean pulled out John’s journal, leafing through the pages, “1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.”

 

“So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it.”

 

“But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths—ESH’eww” Dean followed the harsh explosion with a bout of coughing.

 

Sam looked around, noting the rusted chain that lay broken on the cement. “Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years.”

 

“Yeah, to keep people out. Or to keep something in.”

 

They look at each other, then Sam slowly pushes the door open.

 

——————————————

Sam and Dean walk down a dark hallway, clearly in need of some revamping.

 

“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel,” Dean said, shining his flashlight towards Sam.

 

“Dude, enough.”

 

“I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.”

 

“I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell,” Dean said, focusing his vision on the ground ahead of him.

 

“You get any reading on that thing or not?”

 

“Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home.”

 

“huh’ISH’eww! ETCH’eww!”

 

“Bless. Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day,” Sam noted.

 

“Yeah, the freaks come out at night,” Dean said with a small laugh, tension growing by the second.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?”

 

Sam shoves an already laughing Dean, which just caused him to start back up again.

 

“Remind me to never let you come on a case with me while high on NyQuil ever again,” Sam remarked bitterly. 

—————————————

Dean and Sam enter yet another room. 

 

Dean lets out a low whistle. “Man. Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people. Kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest.”

Dean screws up his face and grins at Sam, who offers nothing more than an eye roll in return.

 

“So. Whaddaya think? Ghosts possessing people?”

 

“Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting.”

 

“Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining.”

 

“Dean,” Sam says, “When are we going to talk about it?”

 

“Talk about what?”

 

“About the fact Dad's not here.”

 

“Oh. I see. How ’bout...never.”

 

“I'm being serious, man. He sent us here...”

 

“So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later—h’ITCH’eww!”

 

“Gesundheit, It doesn't matter what he wants.”

 

“See. That attitude? Right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie.”

 

“Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about.”

 

“I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order.”

 

“So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?” Sam said with the same tone he offered as a kid.

 

“Of course we do.”

 

Sam gives Dean a frustrated face, who in return turns away, ending the conversation. 

 

Dean began poking around and picked up a sign. “'Sanford Ellicott'...You know what we gotta do. We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here. “

 

Dean once again walks away, leaving the sign with Sam, who stares down at it with a classic bitchface.

 

”Hey, Sam?” Dean shouts from down the hall.

 

”Remind me never to never do another case while sick again.” Sam smiled to himself, knowing full well it was the medicine talking.

 

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Yay! I’m so glad to be back! 🥳

Edited November 17, 2018 by castiel_angel

[jensdw]

I’m so excited you’re back!! And you came with sneezy dean?! Can I hug you? 

I adore this thread.  

Also, my quote button isn’t working. Again. But the little bit when Dean complains about Sam pushing him too hard and is all sneezy and shivery...

Once again, so glad you came back! (Don’t feel bad about your time off of the forum-we’ve all had those moments)  

Edited November 17, 2018 by jensdw
pls excuse my incoherent thoughts as I go back to read your update again.

[Seeker]

Yay! I'm so glad you're back! This update was very awesome. 

7 hours ago, castiel_angel said:

"Remind me to never let you come on a case with me while high on NyQuil ever again,”

And

7 hours ago, castiel_angel said:

”Hey, Sam?” Dean shouts from down the hall.

 

 ”Remind me never to never do another case while sick again.” Sam smiled to himself, knowing full well it was the medicine talking.

I adored. So cute! 

I'm very much looking forward to your next installment  

[castiel_angel]

10 hours ago, jensdw said:

I’m so excited you’re back!! And you came with sneezy dean?! Can I hug you? 

I adore this thread.  

Also, my quote button isn’t working. Again. But the little bit when Dean complains about Sam pushing him too hard and is all sneezy and shivery...

Once again, so glad you came back! (Don’t feel bad about your time off of the forum-we’ve all had those moments)  

Thank you so much!!! You can’t go wrong with our little Dean-Bean

 

~I really am glad to be back:)  😌

[castiel_angel]

2 hours ago, ReidSeeker said:

Yay! I'm so glad you're back! This update was very awesome. 

And

I adored. So cute! 

I'm very much looking forward to your next installment  

So happy you enjoyed! I’ll be back soon with Sammy! 😊

[Coffee Mug]

20 hours ago, castiel_angel said:

So happy you enjoyed! I’ll be back soon with Sammy! 😊

Someone mentioned Sammy?? Can’t wait 😊 

[castiel_angel]

4 hours ago, Coffee Mug said:

Someone mentioned Sammy?? Can’t wait 😊 

Yep!! One Sammy coming up!

[Seeker]

17 minutes ago, castiel_angel said:

Yep!! One Sammy coming up!

I'm super super excited!

[castiel_angel]

Sorry for the delay, but I promise I’ll get the next one up before Christmas~think of it as a gift😂 sorry again for the wait.

[castiel_angel]

I hate to be that person that drops the thread, but for the past few months I really wasn’t feeling motivated to work on this at all—until tonight😅 I’ll try my best to keep up, but I’d rather not promise anything that I can’t deliver (yeah, sorry about that post above) 

So, I know I promised a sick Sam above, but upon a scan through of the episode doing just Sam won’t work the way I wanted because of how split the plot is, and how through most of it the boys are separated. Soooo, I figured why not have TWO sickies?! (Bet you didn’t see that one coming 😏)

anyways, hope it’s worth the wait😁

———————————————————————————————————————————————

S01 EP11 “Scarecrow”

Characters: Dean, Sam, John (kind of), Meg

Plot:  After arguing about the search for their father, Sam and Dean split ways - Sam to continue the search in California, Dean to hunt the mysterious disappearances of passing-through couples in Indiana.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Motel

Night turned to dawn and dawn to day; the Winchester brothers tucked in crappy motel sheets as the sun creeped its way into the room. Dean’s phone started ringing, the chime slightly muffled from its spot in the pocket of Dean’s duffel. 

Sam stirs, cracking open his eyelids to locate the phone.

“Dean,” Sam whisper-shouts in his brother’s direction. Nothing but a soft snore escapes the older Winchester’s bed. Sam sniffs lightly, absent-mindedly rubbing at his nose. (A/N)~ In this scene Jensen actually fell asleep and wouldn’t get up so Jared ended up answering the phone 😂)

Reluctantly Sam pried himself out of the bed, not that the bed was any bit heavenly, but it wasn’t exactly the middle of summer. He fumbled with the zipper of the pocket, gently extracting the phone from its folds. 

“Hello?”

“Sam, is that you?” At the very sound of the gruff voice on the other line Sam’s eyes go wide.

“D-Dad? Are you hurt?” It had been long, too damn long.

“I’m fine,” came the simple response. 

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere. We didn’t know where you were, if you were okay.” 

Sam’s mind was racing a mile a minute, recounting Dean’s visit to Stanford that one night; the hours and hours they spent on the road. The unanswered phone calls, the coordinates. Finally, their race was finished.

“Sammy, I’m all right. What about you and Dean?” Sammy. He had been a little boy the last time he heard that word uttered out of his father’s mouth. Sam was about to respond, but his nose got the better of him. “h’ITSH’eww!” He muffles the sneeze in his sleeve away from the phone.

Dean sits up in bed, finally ready to make is presence to the world.

“We’re fine. Dad, where are you?” At this Dean turns his head toward Sam.

“Sorry, kiddo, I can’t tell you that.” 

Sam’s relief turned to anger, his blood boiling. This was the same old game he was forced to play as a kid; those weeks on end he spent locked up in a motel room with Dean as his caretaker. Dean had always said that Dad was important, that Dad was out saving the world. Little did he know he was the villain and his poor little boys were in need of saving.

“What? Why not?”

“Is that Dad?” Dean asked tiredly,  barely making any sense of the scene that unfolded in front of him.

“Look, I know this is hard for you to understand. You’re just gonna have to trust me on this.” Trust him? Last time he said to “trust him” he was off in college to raise himself. To give himself the normal life that his father never could.

”You’re after it, aren’t you? The thing that killed Mom.” All these years later and the man still swelled on that night.

“Yeah. It’s a demon, Sam.” 

“A demon? You know for sure?”

“A demon? What’s he saying?” It was Dean’s turn to pipe in, barely picking up on the bits and scraps of his father and Sam’s exchange.

“I do. Listen, Sammy, I, uh…I also know what happened to your girlfriend. I’m so sorry. I would’ve done anything to protect you from that.” 

Sam grimaced, the whole scene backtracking in his head. The ceiling. The fire. Her screams and pleas for help. Those eyes, watery blue with a desperation only someone to hell and back could understand. 

“You know where it is?” Sam responded, hopeful. Hunting this thing down was for more than just his pride. It was for Jess.

“Yeah, I think I’m finally closing in on it.”

“Let us help,” Sam said, practically begging. He was starting to sound like he did 15 years ago, pleading to more useful than just backup.

“You can’t. You can’t be any part of it.”

“Why not?” Sam shouted.

“Give me the phone,” Dean said, desperate to be a part of the ordeal.

 “Listen, Sammy, that’s why I’m calling. You and your brother, you gotta stop looking for me. Alright, now, I need you to write down these names.”

“Names? What names, Dad—talk to me, tell me what’s going on.” This was too much, too fast. All of it made his head spin.

“Look, we don’t have time for this. This is bigger than you think, they’re everywhere. Even us talking right now, it’s not safe.”

“No. Alright? No way.”

“Give me the phone,” Dean replied once more. He was starting to sound like a broken record, and he might as well have been because Sam barely acknowledged his presence. 

“I have given you an order. Now, you stop following me, and you do your job. You understand me? Now, take down these names.”

Sam was furious. The man was two-sided; a part of him lingering on the happy family they once had to the savage monster he has become, day in and day out obsessing over a single creature. 

Dean walked over and grabbed his phone from Sam’s hands, the man in question occupied with something else. “h—h’tsh’EWW! ‘etsh’IEWW! h’aesh’EWW!” 

“Dad, it’s me. Where are you?” A lengthy pause lingered before Dean’s tone changed.

”Yes, sir. Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?” 

———————————————————————————————————————————————

The Impala

“Alright, so, the names Dad gave us, they’re all couples?”

“Three different couples. All went missing,” Dean replied.

“And they’re all from different towns? Different states?” Sam asked with a sniff, steering the impala out from the motel parking lot.

“That’s right. You got Washington, New York, Colorado. Each couple took a road trip cross-country. None of them arrived at their destination, and none of them were ever heard from again.” 

“Well, it’s a big country, Dean. They could’ve—h-ish’IEWW! huh—h—disappeared anywhere—huh’TSCH’eww!”

“Bless ‘ya. Yeah, could’ve. But each one’s route took ‘em to the same part of Indiana. Always on the second week of April. One year after another after another.”

“This is the second week of April,” Sam said aloud.

“Yep—hsh’EWW!” The outburst came out of nowhere, catching Dean off guard. Now that he thought about it he wasn’t feeling the greatest.

“Bless—So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?”

“Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man’s a master,” Dean glances at his brother, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

Annoyed, Sam pulls over the car and turns of the ignition. 

“What are you doing?” Dean shouts but stops short, pitching toward. “h’ESH’eww! AESH’oo! Tsch’EWW! huh—hn—“

“Bless you, Dean,” Sam said, shooting Dean a concerned glance.

Thanks—h’shh’EWW!”

“We’re not going to Indiana.” 

“We’re not?” Dean asked, clearly not following. 

“No. We’re going to California. Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code.”

“Sam,” Dean warned.

“Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad’s closing in, we’ve gotta be there. We’ve gotta help.”

“Dad doesn’t want our help,” Dean replied simply like the good little soldier boy that he is.

“I—h’TSH’eww! I really don’t care.”

“Sam, he’s given us an order.”

“I don’t care. We don’t always have to do what he says,” Sam protested, his voice unwavering.

“Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it’s important.” 

 “Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I’m talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge.” 

“Alright, look, I know how you feel,” Dean started.

“Do you?” Sam questioned in a biting tone, his gaze venemous. 

“How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?”

“Dad said it wasn’t safe. For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don’t, so if he says to stay away, we stay away.”

Sam was at a breaking point. “I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it’s like you don’t even question him.”

“Yeah, it’s called being a good son!” Dean spat back.

Sam opens the car door and marches out, Dean following in suit. Dean watches as Sam unloads his belongings from the trunk of the car, slamming it shut with malice.

 “You’re a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don’t care what anybody thinks.”

“That’s what you really think?” Sam asked.

“Yes, it is,” Dean said, at this point just poking the bear with a stick. “h’ESH’eww!” Dean sniffed thickly in the aftermath, silently cursing the pressure in his head.

“Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California.” Sam puts on his backpack and starts walking away.

“Come on, you’re not serious,” Dean said, worry glazing over his anger.

“I am serious.”

“It’s the middle of the night! Hey, I’m taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?” Dean shouted, doing everything in his power to make his brother reconsider. Sam stops in his tracks and turns around.

“That’s what I want you to do,” he finishes. They both stare at each other for a few seconds, waiting for one of them to make the first move.

Dean finally reacts. “Goodbye, Sam.” He closes the trunk, gets in the car, and drives away. Sam watches him leave, then starts walking away angrily. 

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Burkittsville, Indiana 

 

Dean pulls up to a small building, a painted sign labeling the brick walls as “Scotty’s Cafè”

Dean notices a man rocking on the porch, flipping through the morning paper.

“Let me guess,” Dean says gesturing toward the sign, “you’re Scotty.

“Yep.”

“Hi, my name’s John Bonham,” Dean says, extending a hand.

“Isn’t that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?” Scotty asked.

Dean looked taken aback, most people not even knowing the band at all. “Wow. Good. Classic rock fan.” 

“What can I do for you, John?”

 Dean takes two pieces of paper out of his pocket revealing Missing Person flyers for Holly and Vince Parker.

“I was—huh—wondering h-if, uh, you’d—huh’ESH’eww! hsh’EWW!—excuse me, if you’ve seen these people by chance.” 

“Bless you.” Dean nodded in thanks.

Scotty eyes them up cautiously. 

‘Nope. Who are they? Scotty asked.

“Friends of mine. They went missing about a year ago. They passed through somewhere around here, and I’ve already asked around Scottsburg and Salem”

“Sorry,” Scotty said, handing the flyers back to Dean. We don’t get many strangers around here. 

Dean nodded.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Sam stood on the side of the road watching the cars zoom by. He turned, noticing a girl with short blonde hair sitting on the ground.

“Hey,” Sam said. He walks over to her and puts his hand on her shoulder. She jumps and takes off her headphones.

“You scared the hell outta me.”

“I’m sorry. I just thought you might need some help.”

“No, I’m good, thanks,” she said, preparing to put her headphones back on.

“Uh, so where you headed?” Sam asked.

“No offense, but no way I’m telling you.”

“Why—Wh—huh—h’TSH’EWW! hih’tish’IEWW!

“Bless you,” the girl said. 

 “Thanks—So why not?” Sam pressed. 

“You could be some kind of freak. I mean, you are hitchhiking,” she said matter-of-factly.

“H’TSH’EWW! h’aesh’OO!”

“Bless.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, non offense, but you are hitchhiking after all.”

“Well, so are you.” At this she laughed. 

“hsh’EWW!” 

“Geez, got yourself a nasty cold there,” she said with a sympathetic look. A white van honks its horn and pulls over.

“Need a ride?” The driver asked through an opened window.

“Yeah,” they both said in unison. 

“Just her. I ain’t takin’ you,” The driver said to Sam. She turned back to Sam. “Oh, and these are for you,” she said, tossing Sam a travel pack of tissues. Sam watches as Meg gathered her bag and hopped into the van.

“You trust shady van guy and not me?” Sam asks incredulously.

“Definitely.”

And with that the van was just another one of the cars zooming down the road.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Burkettsville, Indiana

 

Dean extends his hand to a young man who introduced himself as Harley. 

“You sure they didn’t stop for gas or something?” Harley took the pictures and showed them to his wife, Stacy. 

“Don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head.

“Nope, don’t remember ‘em. You said they were friends of yours?” Harley asks, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“That’s right,” Dean replied. Emily, a woman Dean had met prior, made her way down the stairs with boxes in her arms.

“Excuse me one sec—hsh’EWW huh’ESH’ieww! tsch’oo!”

“Bless you.”

“Thanks.”

“Did the guy have a tattoo?” She asked, setting the boxes into the counter.

‘Yes, he did.” Emily picked up the photo of Vince, studying it carefully.

“You remember? They were just married,” Emily said toward Harley and Stacy.

“You’re right. They did stop for gas. Weren’t here more than ten minutes,” Harley said.

“You remember anything else?” Dean asked, sniffing thickly. How he wished to be in bed, even that godforsaken motel one.

“I told ‘em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town.”

“Could you point me in that same direction?” 

“Sure.”

—————

Dean is driving by the orchard when he hears a noise coming from the backseat of the impala. 

“What the hell?” He mutters aloud. He pulls over and reaches into his bag, pulling out the EMF meter, which is beeping frantically.

Dean tosses it aside and hops out of the car, quickly putting a hand on the roof as he snaps forward with each sneeze. “huh’ETCH’oo! h’ESH’eww!” The aftermath sends the world spinning, Dean using every last ounce of willpower he had left to stay standing on two feet. 

He walks around and sees the scarecrow hanging on its post. He walks over to it and looks at it for a second.

“Dude, you're fugly.”

 Dean notices a sickle in the scarecrow’s hand and a design on its arm. He takes a ladder from a nearby tree and climbs to the top so that he is eye level with the scarecrow. He moves its clothing and recognizes the design from Vince’s tattoo. He pulls out the flyer and compares the designs, which are exactly the same. 

He glances at the scarecrow again. 

“Nice tat.”

—————

Dean pulls up to the gas station from before and gets out. Emily is standing by the gas pumps.

“You’re back.”

“Never left,” Dean said with a smile.

“Still looking for your friends?” Dean nods.

“You mind fillin’ her up there, Emily—h’tsh’EWW!” Dean asks, gesturing toward Baby with a sleeve pressed to his nose. 

“Sure thing.” She grabs a pump and starts filling up the Impala’s tank.

“So, you got yourself a cold?”

“N-no, ‘s probably just allergies or somethin—huh’ESH’eww!”Dean rested an arm on Baby, coughing.

“Sure don’t sound like allergies to me.”

Dean looked around, blaming the blush that rose on his cheeks on a fever. “So, you grew up here?” Emily asked Dean in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

“I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in.”

“They’re nice people,” Dean said fondly.

“Everybody’s nice here.”

“So, what, it’s the, uh, perfect little town?” Dean asks.

“Well, you know, it’s the boonies. But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it’s almost like we’re blessed.” Dean nods in understanding.

“Sorry, hold on a sec—“ Dean spun away from the woman, “h—h’ETSCH’eww! h’ash’eww!” 

“Bless you.”

“Thags,” Dean said, at this point giving up on hiding the congested tones in his voice. 

“Hey, you been out to the orchard? You seen that scarecrow?”

“Yeah, it creeps me out,” Emily said with a repulsive tone. Dean laughs, which quickly turns into a cough. It takes Dean a minute to regain composure, the world tilting and his vision spinning.

“Whose is it?”

“I don’t know. It’s just always been there,” she says, shrugging her shoulders.

“That your aunt and uncle’s?” He asks, nodding towards a red van parked by the garage.

“Customer. Had some car troubles.”

“It’s not a couple, is it? A guy and a girl?” Emily nods.

“Mmhmm.” Dean shoots a concerned glance toward the car.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Bus Station

 

Sam goes up to the front desk of the station, talking to the clerk.

“Sorry, the Sacramento bus doesn’t run again till tomorrow,” She checks the schedule, “Uh, 5:05 PM.”

“Tomorrow? There’s got to be another way—huh’ASH’eww! Excuse me.”

“Bless; Well, there is. Buy a car.”

 Sam, unimpressed, leaves the ticket window. He takes out his phone and selects Dean’s phone number. Enough was enough, this game was over.

“Hey,” A young woman calls to Sam from behind. Sam turns and looks at her, confused, and turns off his phone without calling Dean.

“Hey,” Sam replied once realization dawned on him.

“You again.”

“What happened to your ride?” Sam asked. 

“You were right. That guy was shady. He was all hands.” At that Sam raised his eyebrows.

“ I cut him loose.” Sam looks around the station, disappointed. 

“What’s the matter?” The woman asks.

“Just trying to get to California—h’ESH’eww!,” Sam said, sniffing. 

“No way,” Meg said, surprise laced in her tone.

“Yeah.”

“Me too.” She stands up and walks toward Sam. 

“You know, the next bus isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s the problem.”

“Why? What’s in Cali that’s so important?” she asks.

“Just something I’ve been looking for. For a long time.”

“Well, then I’m sure it can wait one more day, right?” Sam laughs, but deep inside he wonders if one more day really will be good enough. Meg extends her hand and Sam shakes it.

“I’m Meg,” she says with a smile.

“Sam,” he says, returning the favor, “h’ETCH’eww! h’sh’oo! huh’TSH’ieww!” Sam winced at the pain, rubbing the bridge of his nose gently. This illness was starting to take a toll on him, one sneeze at a time.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

Burkittsville, Indiana 

 

Scotty is busy inside the diner serving the couple whose car broke down.

He puts two plates of apple pie in front of them.

“We’re famous for our apples. So, you gotta try this pie.”

“Oh, no. It—please,” the woman stammered.

“It’s on the house,” he says with a bright grin.

“H’ESH’eww!” Dean walked in the diner, swinging open the door.

“Oh, hey, Scotty. Can I get a coffee, black?” Scotty turns to pour the coffee, “Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you’re at it.”

 Dean sits himself down near the couple.

“How ya doin’?” He asks pleasantly. The couple waves and smiles.

“Just passing through?”

“Road trip,” the woman said.

“Hm. Yeah, me too.” Scotty walks over to refill their cider.

“I’m sure these people want to eat in peace,” Scotty said, hinting at Dean to back off his customers.

“Just a little friendly conversation.” Scotty walks away. 

“Oh, and that coffee, too, man. Thanks.” Scotty looks agitated. “h’SHH’eww! huh’ETSCH’ieww!” Dean muffled the double in his fist, rocked forward with every explosion.

Dean turns back to the couple.

“So, what brings you to town?”

“We just stopped for gas. And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives.”

“Is that right?” 

Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us,” the man said.

“Nice people,” Dean said, though through his smile he felt concerned. Something was off about this town.

“Yeah.”

“So, how long till you’re up and runnin’?”

“Sundown,” the man replies.

“Really,” Dean says, pondering the statement, “To fix a brake line?”

The man nods.

“ I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn’t charge-huh—you—h’ISH’ieww! TSH’EWW! tsh’IEWW! huh’TISH’eww!—you anything.”

“You know, thanks a lot, but I think we’d rather have a mechanic do it,” the girl said.

“Sure. I know.” He pauses. “You know, it’s just that these roads. They’re not real safe at night.” The couple exchange an uneasy look.

“I’m sorry?” The girl asks. 

“I know it sounds strange, but, uh—you might be in danger,” Dean said.

“Look, we’re trying to eat. Okay?” The man says, annoyed.

“Yeah,” Dean said, a look of disappointment etched in his visage,”You know, my brother could give you this puppy dog look, and you’d just buy right into it.” Dean turns to smother another sneeze in the folds of his jacket. “H’ISH’eww!” Ugh. He did not feel good at all.

The bell above the café door jingles and Scotty comes out from a back room.

“Thanks for coming, Sheriff.” Dean looks nervous and frustrated. Scotty whispers something in the sheriff’s ear, and they both glare at Dean, who looks away. The sheriff walks over to him.

“I’d like a word, please,” the sheriff said.

“Come on. I’m having a bad day already.”

“You know what would make it worse?” Dean nods slowly with a sniff. Prison food and a cold did not sound like a combination he wished to experience.

———————————————————————————————————————

(Just warning you now that there will probably be a lot of grammar mistakes 😂)

This was a much different layout than I’m used to with barely any interaction between the boys. Hope it wasn’t terrible, just trying to get back into the swing of things😅😁💗

[Seeker]

*happy dance*

Yay! I'm so happy you're back! AND I loved this section! I agree that it makes more sense to have them both sick, considering the way the episode plays out. So even with the boys apart, they're sharing a cold. 😁

7 hours ago, castiel_angel said:

(A/N)~ In this scene Jensen actually fell asleep and wouldn’t get up so Jared ended up answering the phone 😂)

Omg! How cute!! I love bits of trivia and I will happily learn any more you have. They filmed it so well, I would not have guessed. I often wondered about actors pretending to sleep...it would be hard to not actually sleep!

7 hours ago, castiel_angel said:

Sam,” he says, returning the favor, “h’ETCH’eww! h’sh’oo! huh’TSH’ieww!” Sam winced at the pain, rubbing the bridge of his nose gently. This illness was starting to take a toll on him, one sneeze at a time.

Poor little sweetie. I looooove your sneeze spellings!

7 hours ago, castiel_angel said:

Dean turns to smother another sneeze in the folds of his jacket. “H’ISH’eww!” Ugh. He did not feel good at all.

Poor baby! They need to both relax in a motel together 

I didn't really notice grammar mistakes but it was probably too busy doing this:  for your new post lol 

I adore your writing!

[castiel_angel]

@ReidSeeker thank you so much, your the best! I’m really glad you liked it :) I’ll continue to sneak in little facts where I can 😊

[Wolfwings22]

I’m so glad that you’re back too! This was just what I needed to get me through a rough week of midterms. Don’t worry about updating regularly. We all feel the unfortunate cloud of writer’s block, but I hope that you continue to write. This story was awesome! Keep up the great work!

[castiel_angel]

22 hours ago, Wolfwings22 said:

I’m so glad that you’re back too! This was just what I needed to get me through a rough week of midterms. Don’t worry about updating regularly. We all feel the unfortunate cloud of writer’s block, but I hope that you continue to write. This story was awesome! Keep up the great work!

Thank you so much! Good luck on midterms😫

[jensdw]

Ummmmm....I think I'm in heaven. So so glad to see another update from you! And this update is good. Really, really good. 

On 3/6/2019 at 12:47 AM, castiel_angel said:

“ I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn’t charge-huh—you—h’ISH’ieww! TSH’EWW! tsh’IEWW! huh’TISH’eww!—you anything.”

I like this part especially...

[castiel_angel]

On 3/16/2019 at 3:39 PM, jensdw said:

Ummmmm....I think I'm in heaven. So so glad to see another update from you! And this update is good. Really, really good. 

I like this part especially...

Thank you so much @jensdw!! I really appreciate you feedback and reassurance that I don’t suck😅 so glad you enjoyed (doing my best to get another one up soon)😁