If you don't believe in ghosts, you've never been to a family reunion
Who: wearinandtearin and family_remains
When: Starts early morning on September 15, five minutes before the sirens.
Where: Beginning point: the baseball diamond, second point: Sam’s motel room.
Summary: Dean has just arrived to the Port and is confronted with the darkness in the early morning, but it quickly dissipates leaving him to talk to greeters and then find out if Sam is there. An emotional reunion between the brothers when Dean locates the motel where his brother’s been shacking up.
Warnings: Lots of emotions… you might want to cut them out of your body before reading.
One second he was in the dark of his and Sam’s motel room, throwing on his coat and gun to go out and find his brother while Cas started to say something significant about Sam. Then the next second he was in a different kind of dark with a full-body hangover that hit him like a punch to the gut, sending him to his knees. Immediately, he went for his gun that was nestled against his lower back where he’d shoved it in his haste to leave. Gun poised at the ready and once again on his feet, he finally had a chance to breathe normally, and the first thing that hit him was the smell. Blood and decay and rot sat in the air like smoke and he almost choked, wincing his eyes against the sting.
But there was no time to adjust when a growling sound reached his ears and he turned towards it, heart automatically leaping into his throat at the memory of the last time he’d heard a sound like that. If the angels were playing some kind of game again to teach him some passive aggressive lesson in appreciating their angelic assistance, by reminding him of when he bit the bullet, he was going to crack some skulls. But the creature that stepped out of the oppressing dark was no hellhound; it looked more like a black dog. He had no idea what it was, but there was no time to think of that as it charged, four rows of razor teeth gnashing and paws thumping the ground at a ridiculous speed. Two shots was all he managed to fire, one managed to hit the thing’s shoulder, but then pale morning light started to pierce the dark and the darkness seemed to flake away, taking the beast with it. After the chilling howl it emitted disappeared with the rest of the rot and slime and grit, he just stood there in the middle of a baseball diamond looking dumbfounded for a long moment.
“What the hell…?”
His stupor was effectively dismantled when the haunting wail of a siren went off. His hands automatically went up to his ears, but with one full body shake once the sound went away, he was ready to take in what the world looked like in the light. There was a strange fog in the air and the smells he experienced before were fading quickly. And why the hell was he on a baseball diamond? It was supposed to be a place where Wally and the rest of The Little Rascals could throw a baseball, not get torn apart by some kind of new monster he’d never seen before. After scouting the area and recognizing that there was no more danger, he put his gun in his jacket’s inner breast pocket for easy access just in case. Then a minute later a man came up to him apologizing profusely for not coming sooner and started to try and explain where he was. He listened with half an ear for only a couple minutes, looking around at the diamond and the buildings he could see beyond it, but at the moment he felt like sarcastically lashing out at the guy because his luck just sucked so bad that he found himself in an unfamiliar place again.
“… So you see, there’s these apartments over there where you ca-“
“That’s nice, chuckles, really. But I gotta go find someone.” And with two rough pats to the man’s shoulder, he walked past him and headed towards the diamond’s exit.
First priority now: find Sam. In his current state of mind, he wasn't interested in listening to some strange guy try and explain everything to him. Cas would probably show up and do that anyway because the only thing that made sense to him was that this had something to do with the angels or hell, even demons. But he did gather two things: that he was in Canada, a different dimension version of Canada, apparently, but he still had to get proof of that, and two: that monster that attacked him and the darkness that looked like something out of the mind of H.R. Giger was a nightly event and nobody could explain it. To him, these two things were all he needed to know and he'd gather the rest of the details and proof later. He went straight for the nearest yellow pages he could find in some dinky little convenience store and found the first motel listed. The way he felt in that moment, it was likely that if he didn’t find Sam he would break a lot of things. There was too much swirling frustration and other emotions in his chest, and he was controlling their outburst with the obsessive task of finding his brother. If he found Sam, all would be fine and they’d figure this out.
The trip to the motel took quite a bit of time since he had no cash for transportation and he knew nothing of the city’s layout. By the time he finally reached it, it was past mid-morning and creeping on noon. He went straight to the main office where he found a tired-looking middle-aged man behind the desk. It was possible that Sam wasn’t there and he would have to book a room under the same name for Sam to find him, but he was hoping that dropping the name they use to book rooms when they're separated would show that Sam was in fact here already. He also didn't want to seem suspicious by straight up asking if someone was lodging there under the name Jim Rockford, so he acted casual, flashing the man a crooked smile and leaned one forearm on the counter.
“Hi, I’d like to book a room. The name’s Rockford.”
The man cocked his head a little in thought and then went to the dinky little stone-aged computer and typed in the name. “Rockford? …We already have a guy by that name here. He a relative of yours?”
He just managed to hide his immense relief and stave off the little voice that said it’s possible that it could be a different Rockford, but really what were the odds of that? “Really now. Yeah, I came to meet him but I guess he beat me here. What room is he in?”
He pursed his lips together, hoping that the guy wouldn’t stick to the rules and tell him to call “Jim Rockford” instead. He'd tried that, but got no connection, the number was out of range or service, or something. But apparently this man was too tired or too apathetic to care and he gave him the number. He wasn’t going to dare ask for a room key because that would be pushing it, so he grinned at the guy with a renewed vigor and a more upbeat attitude.
“You sir. You have an awesome day.” And with that he made his way out of the office and in search of the room. It wasn’t long before he found it, and he wasn’t worried about waking Sam up if he was in there. The guy was the most annoying early riser he knew. So he knocked (more like pounded) three times on the door.
When: Starts early morning on September 15, five minutes before the sirens.
Where: Beginning point: the baseball diamond, second point: Sam’s motel room.
Summary: Dean has just arrived to the Port and is confronted with the darkness in the early morning, but it quickly dissipates leaving him to talk to greeters and then find out if Sam is there. An emotional reunion between the brothers when Dean locates the motel where his brother’s been shacking up.
Warnings: Lots of emotions… you might want to cut them out of your body before reading.
One second he was in the dark of his and Sam’s motel room, throwing on his coat and gun to go out and find his brother while Cas started to say something significant about Sam. Then the next second he was in a different kind of dark with a full-body hangover that hit him like a punch to the gut, sending him to his knees. Immediately, he went for his gun that was nestled against his lower back where he’d shoved it in his haste to leave. Gun poised at the ready and once again on his feet, he finally had a chance to breathe normally, and the first thing that hit him was the smell. Blood and decay and rot sat in the air like smoke and he almost choked, wincing his eyes against the sting.
But there was no time to adjust when a growling sound reached his ears and he turned towards it, heart automatically leaping into his throat at the memory of the last time he’d heard a sound like that. If the angels were playing some kind of game again to teach him some passive aggressive lesson in appreciating their angelic assistance, by reminding him of when he bit the bullet, he was going to crack some skulls. But the creature that stepped out of the oppressing dark was no hellhound; it looked more like a black dog. He had no idea what it was, but there was no time to think of that as it charged, four rows of razor teeth gnashing and paws thumping the ground at a ridiculous speed. Two shots was all he managed to fire, one managed to hit the thing’s shoulder, but then pale morning light started to pierce the dark and the darkness seemed to flake away, taking the beast with it. After the chilling howl it emitted disappeared with the rest of the rot and slime and grit, he just stood there in the middle of a baseball diamond looking dumbfounded for a long moment.
“What the hell…?”
His stupor was effectively dismantled when the haunting wail of a siren went off. His hands automatically went up to his ears, but with one full body shake once the sound went away, he was ready to take in what the world looked like in the light. There was a strange fog in the air and the smells he experienced before were fading quickly. And why the hell was he on a baseball diamond? It was supposed to be a place where Wally and the rest of The Little Rascals could throw a baseball, not get torn apart by some kind of new monster he’d never seen before. After scouting the area and recognizing that there was no more danger, he put his gun in his jacket’s inner breast pocket for easy access just in case. Then a minute later a man came up to him apologizing profusely for not coming sooner and started to try and explain where he was. He listened with half an ear for only a couple minutes, looking around at the diamond and the buildings he could see beyond it, but at the moment he felt like sarcastically lashing out at the guy because his luck just sucked so bad that he found himself in an unfamiliar place again.
“… So you see, there’s these apartments over there where you ca-“
“That’s nice, chuckles, really. But I gotta go find someone.” And with two rough pats to the man’s shoulder, he walked past him and headed towards the diamond’s exit.
First priority now: find Sam. In his current state of mind, he wasn't interested in listening to some strange guy try and explain everything to him. Cas would probably show up and do that anyway because the only thing that made sense to him was that this had something to do with the angels or hell, even demons. But he did gather two things: that he was in Canada, a different dimension version of Canada, apparently, but he still had to get proof of that, and two: that monster that attacked him and the darkness that looked like something out of the mind of H.R. Giger was a nightly event and nobody could explain it. To him, these two things were all he needed to know and he'd gather the rest of the details and proof later. He went straight for the nearest yellow pages he could find in some dinky little convenience store and found the first motel listed. The way he felt in that moment, it was likely that if he didn’t find Sam he would break a lot of things. There was too much swirling frustration and other emotions in his chest, and he was controlling their outburst with the obsessive task of finding his brother. If he found Sam, all would be fine and they’d figure this out.
The trip to the motel took quite a bit of time since he had no cash for transportation and he knew nothing of the city’s layout. By the time he finally reached it, it was past mid-morning and creeping on noon. He went straight to the main office where he found a tired-looking middle-aged man behind the desk. It was possible that Sam wasn’t there and he would have to book a room under the same name for Sam to find him, but he was hoping that dropping the name they use to book rooms when they're separated would show that Sam was in fact here already. He also didn't want to seem suspicious by straight up asking if someone was lodging there under the name Jim Rockford, so he acted casual, flashing the man a crooked smile and leaned one forearm on the counter.
“Hi, I’d like to book a room. The name’s Rockford.”
The man cocked his head a little in thought and then went to the dinky little stone-aged computer and typed in the name. “Rockford? …We already have a guy by that name here. He a relative of yours?”
He just managed to hide his immense relief and stave off the little voice that said it’s possible that it could be a different Rockford, but really what were the odds of that? “Really now. Yeah, I came to meet him but I guess he beat me here. What room is he in?”
He pursed his lips together, hoping that the guy wouldn’t stick to the rules and tell him to call “Jim Rockford” instead. He'd tried that, but got no connection, the number was out of range or service, or something. But apparently this man was too tired or too apathetic to care and he gave him the number. He wasn’t going to dare ask for a room key because that would be pushing it, so he grinned at the guy with a renewed vigor and a more upbeat attitude.
“You sir. You have an awesome day.” And with that he made his way out of the office and in search of the room. It wasn’t long before he found it, and he wasn’t worried about waking Sam up if he was in there. The guy was the most annoying early riser he knew. So he knocked (more like pounded) three times on the door.