Not Again - Open Post

[goingdarkside]

When Sam walks into the hotel, the first thing he notices is that this is not the sleazy lobby he saw through glass doors. He stops abruptly, turning sharply on his heel to stop Dean from walking in behind him, but his brother is no where to be seen. In fact, the doors behind him are not even the doors he walked through, but ones belonging to a

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[yourwaywardson]

"Sammy!" Dean calls out, striding over to his brother. "Man am I glad to see you." It's been two months since Dean's arrival, and having to be in a new, ridiculously weird place without his brother has been massively disconcerting.

Which is why the obvious reaction to seeing Sam again is to walk up to him and punch him hard in the arm. "Where the fuck have you been?"

[goingdarkside]

"Dean-!" Sam looks relieved, and then stunned when Dean punches him. "- Christ! What was the for?" He rubs his arm, giving his brother an irritated look. "What do you mean, where have I been?" Not that it is not obvious that something is off about this, but jeez, Dean did not have to be such a dick about it. Providing it was really Dean. That was always a matter for contention. He straightens, frowning down at him.

[yourwaywardson]

"For not being here for the past two friggin' months!" As an afterthought, he punches the other arm. To even things out. "I showed up here, by myself, and had do deal with -- weirdness and -- Angelina Jolie for two months before you finally drag your sorry ass over here!"

It occurs to him, suddenly, that this might not be the real Sammy. It had really been John, but that doesn't mean something wearing Sam couldn't show up here. So, to be safe, he grabs the flask from his jacket and splashes holy water at Sam's face. Like the good brother he is.

[goingdarkside]

"Dean!" Sam sputters water, reaching up to wipe his face off. "I don't know what you're talking about. Can you slow down and stop hitting me, or do you need to slap me with some silver, too?" Well, it certainly seems like Dean, though he flicks some of the water back off his fingers, just to make sure this did not go both ways.

[yourwaywardson]

"We're stuck in some sort of weird -- alternate universe thing, I dunno. Hold still." Just to be safe, he grabs Sam's hand and presses a silver knife against his palm. Satisfied that he is neither demon nor shapeshifter, Dean puts the holy water and knife away.

"Let's start from the beginning. Where did you come from, exactly? What were we doing right before you got here?"

[goingdarkside]

Sam frowns, but does, letting him touch the knife to him. "Like the Trickster's?" God, just thinking of that sends shivers up his spine. He shifts uncomfortably.

"We just got back from Minnesota, remember?" He does not really want to think about that, either.

[yourwaywardson]

... Dean hates his life. "Not exactly. We get to live different days, all of them fucked up. Welcome to the Hotel California, Sammy."

He rubs at his forehead, feeling an impending headache, "Last I remember, we were in Pennsylvania, chasing down Dracula. Or -- the Wolfman, or the Mummy, or all of the above. Friggin' -- Creature of the Black Lagoon. Doesn't matter. Why were we in Minnesota?"

[goingdarkside]

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that." He frowns, his brows coming together sharply. "You mean Oktoberfest?" God, that was ages ago. Even longer than two months. But Dean had just been right behind him-

"- just a hunt. Pack of ghouls." It is almost a lie, but he manages it mostly smooth. If Dean doesn't remember- well, he does not want to be the one to bring it up.

[yourwaywardson]

"Heh, yeah. Oktoberfest." He smiles a little, remembering the gorgeous bar wench with the great rack. Then he clears his throat, shaking himself from his day dream. "Uh, yeah. Time's pretty messed up here. Ghouls? Really?" Ghouls were nasty sons of bitches. Eating things -- eugh. "Did we get the job done?"

[goingdarkside]

"Yeah, we got it done." As much as could be done, at least. He shrugs his bag back onto his shoulder. "So - what is this place, exactly? Have you figured it out?" He doubted it, because if Dean had figured it out, well, he would not be here anymore.

[yourwaywardson]

"Not a clue. But it's got free HBO, all the food you can eat, and Magic Fingers beds that don't require quarters. So I'm a happy camper." Dean grins, generally pleased with the setup of the hotel. "We can't get off, which sucks. There are roads that lead to friggin' nowhere and a million fuckin' miles of sand, but at least I've got my car."

He's not quite sure how to slip in the whole 'by the way, Dad's here too' thing. So he asks, casually, "Have you seen anyone else since you got here?"

[goingdarkside]

"So you've found Dean Heaven?" He shook his head. Next thing they knew, he was going to find AC/DC tickets under his pillow, or something. This was downright bizarre. "Yeah, a woman who knows you. Fox is her name. She's nice."

[yourwaywardson]

"Ooou, Fox. Yeah. She's very nice. What'd she say about me?" Hopefully good things. "... and what did you say about me?" Probably bad things.

[goingdarkside]

Sam could not help but be a little bit amused. "I was looking for you. She said she knew you and you tried to sleep with her. I just said it sounded like you."

[yourwaywardson]

"Can you blame me?" Dean raises his eyebrows significantly. "I mean -- you saw her, right? But she's not into the one night stand thing. She likes to know a guy before she sleeps with him. That's okay. I can wait." Not very patiently, but he can wait.

"So uh -- anyone else? Anyone that you know?"

[goingdarkside]

"Really? I didn't know you had it in you." He smiles, shaking his head again. "Whatever, good luck and all that."

"No, you're the second person I've come into contact with. Why? Should I of?"