Like Dean was supposed to believe the whole beaming down crap was supposed to be all for their benefit. You wanted to help someone, you didn't kidnap them from their homes - or friggen time machines like the Doctor - and then offer them great food and a pat on the head like that made it a-okay.
Whatever it was, this wasn't from the goodness of the
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As expected, he made it to the boy's room with no delay. Peter tucked Sam's gun around to the side of the band on his sweatpants for good measure, since he didn't need it staring Hanatarou in the face when he opened the door.
Other than that, there wasn't much to worry about. Though it was right as Peter was knocking that he realized he should have grabbed a pillowcase when he was back in his room. If they were going to be looting large amounts of medicine and bandages tonight, that would be a help. Still, hopefully Hanatarou would have one to spare.
Having given two sound knocks on the door, Peter took a half-step back and waited, shovel in one hand and flashlight in the other.
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As Sam left Ruby's room, he picked up the pace through the hallways. If he'd had a watch, he would've looked at it. He missed his watch. Or a way to tell time, period. It wasn't as though it mattered here-obviously-but he still didn't like not being able to keep track of things that had become so ingrained for him to do so: time, dates, hell, the year. They could be anywhere from the late-90s to the present day. Maybe further?
There was a thought. One that he wasn't so sure he wanted to consider, even if he knew that he had to.
He pushed open the door with only an It's me as warning so that Dean wouldn't think it a stranger. One of the troubles of not being able to lock your doors from the inside ( ... )
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"Yeah, I got one," he said. "Peter has it, though."
He wasn't sure if his roommate would get the chance to give it a whirl tonight, but he supposed it didn't matter. He suspected they had plenty of time to check it out. They sure as hell weren't going anywhere soon, and the way the doctor spoke, it sounded like these rings would be a long-term addition. Whatever power it had, Sam was in no rush to dive headlong into it. He'd had enough reality-bending, time-twisting crap in his life, even before last night's incident.
Picking up his flashlight, he shone it at the piece of jewelry. He squinted. "Looks like blood coral."
From the blood of Medusa, apparently, though he'd be damned if he could put together what that had to do with teleportation. With the way things were going, for all he knew this was a stone from Mars or something. There'd been an Admiral not too long ago who'd named a ( ... )
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“You first,” Dean said. Demons were safe. They weren’t going to sprout damn phasers on him or do anything nuts - their brand of nuts, he got. It was doucheness taken to a new level, but it was still something he could get. Demons just were evil begging for an exorcism. It was just how it was, from before he’d even been born and it’d still be like that when he kicked the bucket. There was something comforting about knowing evil was going to be out there and folks like Sam and him were going to be hunting them. No paradoxes, no aliens, just normal monsters out there that needed ganking. All in all, normalHe missed normal ( ... )
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Even though it was dark out in the hallway, Suzaku held off on turning on his flashlight right away. If he was careful, he was confident that he could navigate his way through the hallway without running into anything or anyone. There was still enough light about to make it possible to maneuver around. His footsteps were slow and careful, he didn't want to attract any attention to himself that was either. As he moved down the hallway, he took note of anything that would help him find his way back.
A hand was raised to the wall, and he lightly ran his fingers along the surface as he walked along. The cool and smooth surface helped him relax a little. All of his nerves were on edge, but his mind was still focused. He had been in much more stressful situations than this, but that didn't mean the situation didn't bother him or have some effect on him. If he wasn't careful, the anxiety that was gnawing on him would start to bubble into his mind.
Eventually, he departed from his current hallway and ventured into others.
[ ( ... )
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