As if I forgot this...
[mood| 
]
So yeah. In all my excitement over getting flashed by Faith, I forgot to mention I met a cool guy. Name's Connor, and even though he's got questionable taste in music, he seems like my kind of guy. He's been roped into acting as my bodyguard. :D 'Cause, you know, the chicks are bound to be arriving in droves, man.
That was cool.
What happened after? Not so cool. I finished my session, and told Connor I'd meet up with him at the bar after I talked to Faith and found Sammy. I managed to get Faith's number and collect my brother - in fact, I was just telling him about Connor and heading to the bar about 15 minutes early - and we just up and disappeared. Like, poof. Literally. Next thing I know, we're waking up in the Impala outside a Motel Six.
I was pissed off. First I thought it was just a dream, but why the hell would Sammy and I be sleeping in the car in the parking lot of a motel? And when Sam woke up a minute or two later, he'd had the same dream. Identical. But it couldn't have happened, right? Some of his psychic shit put him in my dream or something. I mean, I wasn't hung over - and believe me, after 8 beers and a half-dozen shots even I might feel it a bit the next day. But the kicker? I had Faith's number. On a napkin, in my pocket. We tried calling it, but all I got was weird static. Which of course had Sammy giving me shit for catching a fake number, but you could tell his heart wasn't in it. He started going off on trans-dimensional something or other, but I wasn't interested. I was pissed, man. But when I woke up, it was like something was different. I was rested in a way I haven't felt in years. Like it'd been a long time between hunts, but without the itchy-nervous-been-in-one-place-too-long-skin-crawling feeling that I usually get. Physically well, mentally set for whatever comes, not tired, not hungry... just... good. Strong, all around. Reflexes still keen, too. No rust so we know it's not like we've been Rip van Winkled or anything. I dunno. Sam is worried, but I kind of looked at it as a gift.
Anyhow, a week went by. Faced down some nasty shit. Fucker liked to play mind games. Anyhow, I made sure to grab Dad's notebook and have it on me when we went to bed after burning the bitch. Woke up here. Again. Though it's not like we actually wake up. It took us a while to clue into the fact that we weren't where we were supposed to be. Asked around, sure enough it was Saturday again - so we're missing a few hours, but not much - and then the energy surge hits and I feel *good*. Not high or drunk, just good. Like when I woke up last Sunday. But more happy, ready to party. I dunno. It's weird. I commandeered the computer for a bit while Sammy's off getting some chow, then he feels the need to "research" and figure out what happened. He'll blow a gasket when I tell him I tried Faith's number and it worked here. I'm meeting her for a drink before my DJ shift starts in an hour and a half.
Fuck it. I'm gonna relax and enjoy myself here. Give Sammy the journal, let him do his research. Let's call this Dean Does Vacation.
]
So yeah. In all my excitement over getting flashed by Faith, I forgot to mention I met a cool guy. Name's Connor, and even though he's got questionable taste in music, he seems like my kind of guy. He's been roped into acting as my bodyguard. :D 'Cause, you know, the chicks are bound to be arriving in droves, man.
That was cool.
What happened after? Not so cool. I finished my session, and told Connor I'd meet up with him at the bar after I talked to Faith and found Sammy. I managed to get Faith's number and collect my brother - in fact, I was just telling him about Connor and heading to the bar about 15 minutes early - and we just up and disappeared. Like, poof. Literally. Next thing I know, we're waking up in the Impala outside a Motel Six.
I was pissed off. First I thought it was just a dream, but why the hell would Sammy and I be sleeping in the car in the parking lot of a motel? And when Sam woke up a minute or two later, he'd had the same dream. Identical. But it couldn't have happened, right? Some of his psychic shit put him in my dream or something. I mean, I wasn't hung over - and believe me, after 8 beers and a half-dozen shots even I might feel it a bit the next day. But the kicker? I had Faith's number. On a napkin, in my pocket. We tried calling it, but all I got was weird static. Which of course had Sammy giving me shit for catching a fake number, but you could tell his heart wasn't in it. He started going off on trans-dimensional something or other, but I wasn't interested. I was pissed, man. But when I woke up, it was like something was different. I was rested in a way I haven't felt in years. Like it'd been a long time between hunts, but without the itchy-nervous-been-in-one-place-too-long-skin-crawling feeling that I usually get. Physically well, mentally set for whatever comes, not tired, not hungry... just... good. Strong, all around. Reflexes still keen, too. No rust so we know it's not like we've been Rip van Winkled or anything. I dunno. Sam is worried, but I kind of looked at it as a gift.
Anyhow, a week went by. Faced down some nasty shit. Fucker liked to play mind games. Anyhow, I made sure to grab Dad's notebook and have it on me when we went to bed after burning the bitch. Woke up here. Again. Though it's not like we actually wake up. It took us a while to clue into the fact that we weren't where we were supposed to be. Asked around, sure enough it was Saturday again - so we're missing a few hours, but not much - and then the energy surge hits and I feel *good*. Not high or drunk, just good. Like when I woke up last Sunday. But more happy, ready to party. I dunno. It's weird. I commandeered the computer for a bit while Sammy's off getting some chow, then he feels the need to "research" and figure out what happened. He'll blow a gasket when I tell him I tried Faith's number and it worked here. I'm meeting her for a drink before my DJ shift starts in an hour and a half.
Fuck it. I'm gonna relax and enjoy myself here. Give Sammy the journal, let him do his research. Let's call this Dean Does Vacation.