Day 53: Sun Room, Morning

[scarefaux]

With breakfast finished and a new acquaintance made, the Scarecrow's mind turned to his other friends. The disappearance of Depth Charge's friend had brought back memories of how he'd felt when Kaiji went missing: helpless, useless, as though he should have and could have done something more to find him. If only he had his brain, then maybe he

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[theroadsofar]

So Dean hadn’t got a chance to crash Sam’s party yet.

That didn’t mean Operation: Kill Sam Winchester In His Sleep still wasn’t on table.

‘Course his brother would see him coming. No doubt Sam had figured out that maybe, just maybe, things weren’t cool between them. Maybe he’d try to change the subject or try to turn this back into being about The Job, like Dean would be willing to turn a blind eye to this again just ‘cause it gave him a sick feeling to think Sam was less than human. Sam kept doing that at him; this time Dean wasn't going to roll over. He wasn’t sure exactly what old Yellow-Eyes did to the kid when he’d been in Lawrence. Wasn’t sure he even wanted to know. But none of that changed the fact that Sam was plain different than he was and it kinda freaked him out. Humans simply weren’t supposed to be able to light people on fire with the power of their minds, dammit. Sam wasn’t supposed to be rocking black eyes, either. The kid used to be normal

[sociopathology]

The act of following people from room to room was already becoming tiresome. Conformity at its best, with strict time sheets, similar clothes and nurses moving the day along whenever they got their say so; Sherlock hated it all, but he especially hated his nurse. She chattered mindlessly as she lead him through the corridors, a constant wail of conversation that Sherlock simply couldn't care less about. He barely even responded to her, having discovered that she refused to answer the questions he deemed useful, and would instead move it onto more small talk. When the opportunity presented itself, Sherlock broke away from her and left her talking to herself, ducking through crowds of people until he could finally see the room everyone was beginning to gather themselves into

[theroadsofar]

It didn't take too long for Dean to figure out someone was actually staring at him.

He turned.

With the room filling up with other patients - prisoners, same thing at this point - he didn't spot the guy immediately. When he did, Dean was startled to see the guy staring right at him, this really pale dude who looked like he could stand to take a step outside or something. Dean glanced down at himself, half expecting one of the cats always around the Sun Room to have thrown up on him or - nope, he was clean, and he still couldn't figure out why the other guy was staring at him. Dean thought about ignoring him. For all he knew, there could be a good reason he was staring. Maybe he recognized him? It wasn't exactly the first time he'd run into someone in Landels who acted like they knew him and he guessed technically they had, pre-brain wipe or whatever they were going to call it.

Dean finally got up and approached the other patient, taking a seat without asking and flashing him one of those friendly grins that weren't that friendly

[sociopathology]

Sherlock was unreasonably good at hiding himself. This time, however, he just didn't see the point - there was a room full of people, some looking particularly at ease but most of them looking somewhat distant, or even distressed in some cases.

As soon as he's recognised he realises the natural rhythm one goes through when realising someone has been watching them for what could be full minutes. First, they wonder whether there's something on their face or on their clothes, sometimes they question whether it's in their heads but usually they fall onto ignoring whoever it is (because that is, as far as Sherlock could understand, what polite people do). Admittedly, their actions would be stiff and wary, because they know that someone's watching, and sometimes it would be about that time that Sherlock would watch someone else. Usually, though, he kept his gaze on them. What intrigued Sherlock was how certain cultures reacted to the attention - some would be offended, some would be uncomfortable and others would welcome it. It was

[theroadsofar]

Dean almost smiled, even if it was a little pained. “Join the club, buddy. They took my car.” If they messed with his baby, he was friggen flipping a table over it. A car like that you had to respect and Dean was willing to bet that wasn’t happening in a place like this. Dean shrugged and went on, “I’m willing to be we’re not the only people they jacked stuff from.”

It wasn’t surprising, aside from the whole kidnapping out of thin air thing. That still had him going but it didn’t seem to matter if you were in the middle of doing something when you got snatched, from what he’d seen. So phones, whole cars, maybe pets or….whatever were probably floating around here too. That or his car was wrapped around a tree, which was way way too sucky to even think about. Dean’s jaw had tensed just at that thought. Okay, yeah. He didn’t need to have that mental image of her totaled like that. Once was bad enough. Between the deal and the stuff with Sam, having the Impala rusting somewhere in a trash heap was like karma was kicking him when he was