[open] Oh, I'm never gonna be the same again
Who: Sam Winchester and OPEN
What: Arrival shenanigans
When: Day 42
Where: Town Square
Sam Winchester was very, very confused.
One minute he was with his brother and Bobby -- well, almost. He had just finished beating Jake down. His shoulder was dislocated, his body was tired, but he was all in one peace, and Dean and Bobby were there. They came. Not that he ever doubted that they would. Dean would always come for him. He was his big brother. It was his job.
The next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of some guy's living room, listening to him tell him some bullshit about how Sam wasn't real. That he was just some figment of someone's imagination and everything that he's gone through wasn't real. He really didn't have a lot of time to get into that, however, because the next thing he knows, he's standing in the middle of what looked like a town square, tape in one hand and journal in the other, and he really doesn't know what to do with himself.
It was anticlimactic, to say the least.
"Son of a bitch," he whispered, before starting to look around for some other sign of life. "Where the hell am I?"
What: Arrival shenanigans
When: Day 42
Where: Town Square
Sam Winchester was very, very confused.
One minute he was with his brother and Bobby -- well, almost. He had just finished beating Jake down. His shoulder was dislocated, his body was tired, but he was all in one peace, and Dean and Bobby were there. They came. Not that he ever doubted that they would. Dean would always come for him. He was his big brother. It was his job.
The next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of some guy's living room, listening to him tell him some bullshit about how Sam wasn't real. That he was just some figment of someone's imagination and everything that he's gone through wasn't real. He really didn't have a lot of time to get into that, however, because the next thing he knows, he's standing in the middle of what looked like a town square, tape in one hand and journal in the other, and he really doesn't know what to do with himself.
It was anticlimactic, to say the least.
"Son of a bitch," he whispered, before starting to look around for some other sign of life. "Where the hell am I?"