I have seen the future, brother, it is murder.
((closed RP for Sam and the Master))
(It's like an old picture in black and white from some noir film, a beautiful woman smoking a cigarette, the man across from her sipping something expensive from a highball glass. They're talking, words he doesn't quite understand, and there's laughter in their tones, an almost lightness. He recognizes her, it's Una, and the man)
(his eyes, darkening, it could be intimacy but it's not, and he knows that face too, that smile that's a lie, he met the Master at the gates when the man - alien - first arrived. he'd thought he could be a demon then and he thinks so now)
(at the sight of her pressed up against the wall, straining for air as the Master's elegant-but-cruel hands tighten around her throat, and he isn't stopping, isn't giving room for air, and the look on her face that suggested this could all be just a dangerous game slips under the sounds of a windpipe slowly collapsing beneath his fingers)
Sam gasped, seeing a distant glimpse of the ground close to his nose, was aware that (the same room, now in disarray; there had to have been a struggle.) his chest was heaving and the staggering, stabbing pain (the outside of the Toon Town City Hall, one door ever so slightly ajar.) behind his eyes was lessening some. The ground was wet where he'd dropped a half-drunk can of Coke-Cola, the sight slowly spreading liquid interspersed in his sight with the flagging pieces of the vision.
(Una's body, pale and broken and lifeless, and the Master's hands covered in her blood)
He hadn't had a vision since he'd come to the park. He'd never had a vision that hadn't been centered around one of the children like him, or the demon that stalked them. He'd never had a vision with so many complicated pieces. Sam let his forehead rest on the pavement, feeling how his knees ached from falling on them. He'd been right about what he told John- his visions were getting stronger.
Or maybe he was making them stronger.
Sam got shakily to his feet, brushing grit from his knees and passing a hand though his hair. There was a small part of him that wanted to run in the other direction, to stay as far away from Toon Town as possible, and a much larger part of him that wished Dean were here. But he couldn't, and he wasn't. He was on his own on this one, and he had to do his job.
Less than a half an hour later, he was standing on the steps of the Toon Town Hall and knocking on the door. His hands were only shaking a little.
(It's like an old picture in black and white from some noir film, a beautiful woman smoking a cigarette, the man across from her sipping something expensive from a highball glass. They're talking, words he doesn't quite understand, and there's laughter in their tones, an almost lightness. He recognizes her, it's Una, and the man)
(his eyes, darkening, it could be intimacy but it's not, and he knows that face too, that smile that's a lie, he met the Master at the gates when the man - alien - first arrived. he'd thought he could be a demon then and he thinks so now)
(at the sight of her pressed up against the wall, straining for air as the Master's elegant-but-cruel hands tighten around her throat, and he isn't stopping, isn't giving room for air, and the look on her face that suggested this could all be just a dangerous game slips under the sounds of a windpipe slowly collapsing beneath his fingers)
Sam gasped, seeing a distant glimpse of the ground close to his nose, was aware that (the same room, now in disarray; there had to have been a struggle.) his chest was heaving and the staggering, stabbing pain (the outside of the Toon Town City Hall, one door ever so slightly ajar.) behind his eyes was lessening some. The ground was wet where he'd dropped a half-drunk can of Coke-Cola, the sight slowly spreading liquid interspersed in his sight with the flagging pieces of the vision.
(Una's body, pale and broken and lifeless, and the Master's hands covered in her blood)
He hadn't had a vision since he'd come to the park. He'd never had a vision that hadn't been centered around one of the children like him, or the demon that stalked them. He'd never had a vision with so many complicated pieces. Sam let his forehead rest on the pavement, feeling how his knees ached from falling on them. He'd been right about what he told John- his visions were getting stronger.
Or maybe he was making them stronger.
Sam got shakily to his feet, brushing grit from his knees and passing a hand though his hair. There was a small part of him that wanted to run in the other direction, to stay as far away from Toon Town as possible, and a much larger part of him that wished Dean were here. But he couldn't, and he wasn't. He was on his own on this one, and he had to do his job.
Less than a half an hour later, he was standing on the steps of the Toon Town Hall and knocking on the door. His hands were only shaking a little.