SPN Fanfic: Between a Quantum Rock and a Hard Place - PART 1/?
Title: Between a Quantum Rock and a Hard Place 1/?
Characters: Dean, Sam, eventually... others
Rating: GEN, PG13
Word Count: 2261 words
Disclaimer: None of this is mine! None of it! It all belongs to a bunch of other people!
Warnings: The boys are beyond the end of Season 2 here, so there will be incidental spoilers for season 2. Also spoilers for... Um. Heheh. In this bit? Parts of Doctor Who Season 3. *whistles innocently* Other than that, nothing content-wise that couldn't have been aired...
Summary: Sam and Dean go hunt something. Things go wrong in unusual ways...
A/N: I can't believe I'm doing this. I've taken liberties with certain after-effects of a monster's attack strictly for some cheap comedy, and also taken mild liberties with American climatology. I'll be taking many more liberties later, trust me. Originally started for the spn_crackfic challenge "Out of Time". And, yeah, it's... kind of a crossover... So I'm mangling more than just the Supernatural universe with this...
Between a Quantum Rock and a Hard Place
Part 1
by CaffieneKitty
Sam closed his left eye. Opened it. Closed his right eye. Opened it. "I'll be damned," he muttered to the stone angel statue three feet away. "This book was right." Closed his left eye. Opened it. Closed his right eye. Opened it. Damn, blinking one eye at a time needed a hell of a lot of focus and attention.
"Dean! Found a mirror yet?" he called again, closing the book on the loose paper and shuffling backward a step, eyes on the statue.
Something indistinguishable and possibly profane echoed from a far part of the building.
Sam's backward-questing foot knocked over a stack of old newspapers. Mold spores flew everywhere. The bar-trivia factoid that it is nearly impossible to sneeze with your eyes open flashed through Sam's mind before-
"Oh, cra- a- AH CHOOO!"
He felt the grip of the angel's cold hands, and then the world dropped out from under him.
-
"What do you mean, they only move when no one's looking?" Dean had said over a week ago.
"Exactly that, Dean. When you aren't looking at the statues, they move, really fast. If you even blink they can get you. That's what it says in this book anyway. Bobby's not sure where he got it." Sam turned the leather-bound journal over in his hands, flipped to the page where Journal of Impossible Things was scrawled. "Says he's had it for years."
"Statues that move, but only when someone's not looking at them? And that's why people are disappearing without any trace of blood or remains left behind?"
"We've seen weirder."
"...true. What about cameras? Would a camera work? Or a mirror?"
"Camera, no, it has to be something living. Mirror... maybe. We can try it."
Dean shrugged. "Yeah, sure we can hang around the creepy old house all night playing hide and seek with the statue, or we can just take 'im out." He grinned and pulled a grenade out of the weapons duffel, shaking it slightly to jingle the pin.
"Blow it up?"
"Sure, why not? Get up to it, super-glue the grenade somewhere vital, use a string to pull the pin, and run like hell. House is condemned anyway, and nothing's immune to a grenade or two."
-
"I can't believe these freakin' things are immune to grenades," Dean muttered, opening another door and scanning quickly with the flashlight. "Quanta-whatsis-lock stupid bastard freaking angels."
At least they'd figured out the immunity to grenades thing while it was still in the garden, and left a crater out on the tiled patio, rather than bringing down the house. Of course then the damned thing went into the house of too many rooms and no mirrors. "Who lived in this damned house, vampires?" Dean muttered.
Sam's voice echoed down the stairwell. "...mirror yet?"
"Bite me!" Dean shouted over his shoulder, "You 'n your goddamned weeping angel too!" Dean moved to the next room, shining the flashlight around. "Ha!" Something reflected in the dim recesses of the room.
"...wa-choo!" echoed down the stairwell.
"Gesundheit," muttered Dean, pulling some rotting canvas off the tall frame. Ha, it was a mirror. A huge mirror. "'S gonna be a bitch to get up the stairs." He stood back and considered the thing. Huge. Something was bugging him. Not the mirror, though he kinda didn't trust them after Blo-.
Outside the room, the stairs creaked, something big descending fast. Bigger than Sam.
Sneezes. Your eyes close when you-
Dean half-turned toward the sound, and didn't see his reflection in the mirror suddenly grow white stone wings, white hands like claws blurring down to grab his shoulders.
In a split-second, too fast to step aside or even think, he landed ass-first on sun-baked mud.
-
Sam opened his eyes and squinted into the sun. Felt like a grenade was going off behind his eyes so he closed them again. Something lumpy and prickly was underneath him. Cactus? Great.
Remembering the angel suddenly he opened his eyes wide and looked all around. No angel. No room, no house, no yard, no overgrown plantation, no state of Louisiana, nothing but mud-flats and cactus, as far as he could see. Also no Dean. Also just great. Sam gingerly rolled off the cluster of cactus and lay there for a minute waiting for the world to stop spinning.
The solid whump of a body hitting ground sounded close and to his left. Sam turned his head to see Dean fall over sideways, curling up and squirming in the dust.
"Dean!" Sam shouted, and tried to get to his feet and run towards his rolling, cursing brother, but found himself abruptly face-first on the ground. His legs hadn't moved. That was weird.
"Sam? Sam!" Dean shouted, doing some kind of bizarre torso twist-thing like a trained seal lunging for a particularly tasty fish, and fell over again. "What the hell?"
"Uh... I did that too. I went to take a step, and my foot didn't actually move, even though I thought it had, fell over." Sam's foot kicked out into the air. "Okay, there it goes now."
Dean's arms shot out in front of him. "Dude, what the-"
"I dunno, Dean, but maybe it'll pass. The weeping angel got you?"
"Yeah," Dean squinted around. "Where are we? Where's the hou- Dammit! Where's my car!" Dean tried fumbling to his feet and wound up executing what looked like an innovative break-dancing routine and landed on his face again. He spat out dust. "This? Sucks."
Sam tried moving his leg and noticed only a one second delay. "At least you didn't land on a cactus patch."
"Seriously?" Dean snickered. "That's like a total Wile E. Coyote maneuver, dude."
Sam found there was no time delay at all on his disdainful glare.
"So, what... are we dead?" said Dean, worming his way towards Sam. "Did the damn thing kill us, is this like purgatory or something?"
"I don't think so..." Sam wiggled his fingers, moving at the same time as he wanted them too. "Maybe Arizona?"
"Who knows. Might be the middle of Australia, but I don't think they've got cactuses there."
"It's cacti, Dean," said Sam, reaching back to ease his phone from the only back pocket not full of ouch, and pull it slowly up to where he could see it.
Dean wriggled around and squinted at Sam. "Dude, we've been sent to the middle of a freakin' desert by an overgrown lawn ornament and you're correcting me about the plural form of cactus?"
Sam scowled and glared at the phone he'd spent the last eternity getting access to before easing it back into his pocket.
Dean watched what might have been an eagle or a buzzard circling overhead and twitched his limbs. "Lemmee guess, after all that, no signal?"
"Yeah." Sam stretched his arm and adventurously started picking out cactus spines he could reach. "So, you figure these angels don't kill people, maybe they just send them somewhere else?"
"Where though? Arizona? Australia?" Dean wriggled around until his hand caught up with his torso and he pushed himself into a sitting position. "None of the people that went missing ever showed up again Sam, and neither place is that hard to come back from. Did that book say anything else?"
"Uh," said Sam, wincing as he pulled out a particularly invasive cactus spine. "Naw, after the bit about the quantum lock thing it went off into... other stuff."
"Like what, maybe it'll help."
"I don't think so. Something about a robot dog."
Dean stared at Sam. "Robot dog."
"Um. Yeah."
"We went on a hunt based on info you found in a book with a robot dog in it?" Dean said flatly.
"Not only based on the book. There were the pictures from the newspaper. It had moved." Sam met his brother's unimpressed eyes. "The angel needed stopped, Dean! People were going missing!"
"Oh for- Now we're missing, Sam! We don't know where we are or how we got here, we can't even walk straight right now, and I don't know about you, but feel like I've been stabbed in the brain! I don't need to hear about a book of lore with a robot dog in it!"
"It was right about the angel though," Sam said in his best tone of reasonableness, "and you know hunters as well as I do. They're all a bit nuts in some way. I guess this guy had a thing about... robot dogs."
Dean glared at a clump of mud for half a second before his hand came around and swatted it away. "Damn thing better not be drivin' my car, Sam. Solid stone, thing will screw up the suspension for sure. I don't even want to think about the seats."
Sam threw another cactus spine away and tried getting to his feet. Wobbly, but at least everything was moving when he told it to. He pulled out his cell phone again.
"It's weird, there's no signal at all, not even one bar. GPS isn't even picking up."
"It'd be just perfect if we were smack in the middle of the old nuke-testing grounds," Dean said sourly.
"I don't think so, Dean."
"What do we gotta do to figure out where we are? Wait 'til nightfall and figure it out from the stars?"
"We can figure out what time zone we're in, I guess."
"Won't help much, but it'll be something." Dean got to his feet with a bit of advance planning, swayed and clung to Sam's shoulder like a sailor on high seas. "This totally sucks."
"Dean," gritted Sam, "Cactus."
"Ah, damn, sorry Sammy," Dean let go of Sam's shoulder and fell over. "Crap!"
"You should be about back to normal soon, if it's going the same way as mine did." Sam held out a hand to Dean. "Just watch the spines."
"Right," said Dean, begrudgingly accepting being hauled to his feet. "So, time zones." He looked at his wristwatch. "What time have you got, Sam?"
"I've got 4:38, and my watch is still running."
"Same here." Dean looked at the sun, close to directly overhead. "Twenty to five in the afternoon in Louisiana, and noonish here means..." Dean shook his head. "We'd be somewhere way off the coast of Cali in the Pacific, or maybe the Alaska panhandle. Whatever the angel did, we lost time from it."
"Felt instantaneous." Sam shifted foot to foot. "At least we know it can't be the Demon."
"Yep. He's out of the way for good." Dean looked at the surrounding expanse of mostly nothing. "We need to start by figuring out exactly where we are. Find some civilization."
"How? Picking a random direction and walking doesn't sound like the world's brightest idea and what else do we have to go on?"
Dean nodded his head to the east. "There's a bit of a rise over there, maybe we'll be able to see farther from on top, see if there's a road or town nearby. Who knows, maybe we're in Nevada, and we'll be able to see the Vegas Strip." He started walking. "Keep an ear out for planes. There might be a landing strip or airfield nearby with all this flat land."
Sam followed. "All I want to do is find a phone that works and call Bobby. That stone angel's still on the loose."
"Nope. I found a mirror." Dean grinned. "The bastard's stuck, now."
Sam frowned. "So you saw it in the mirror and it still got you?"
"No, I knew it was coming up behind me so I started to turn and-"
Sam looked sour. "You didn't see it."
Dean shrugged. "If I disappeared from in front of it, it got a good solid eyeshot of itself in the mirror. It ain't goin' nowhere."
"Assuming that it seeing itself counts."
Dean nodded, starting up the gentle slope of the small hill. "Well, yeah, assuming."
"And only until dark."
Dean stopped and Sam continued past him up the hill. "...crap. You are a ray of freaking sunshine, Sammy." Dean started walking again, faster. "We have to get back."
Sam reached the top of the hill and squinted around, pulling out his phone again. "Not sure where we are, but we're definitely not in the same time zone. or we've lost most of a day. Climate is totally different. We're going to need to find water and shelter if nothing else."
"How the hell can getting touched by an angel get us sent to a different time zone anyway? How does a solid stone statue do anything?" Dean side-stepped a patch of cactus and joined Sam on the top of the hill. He jerked his chin towards the book in Sam's hands. "What does your friend with the robot dog obsession say?"
"Hey, I just found it at Bobby's, it's not like I know the guy."
"Whatever, what does it say."
"That they move when no one's looking at them, and they make people disappear."
"So are they demons, ghosts, some kind of troll, what?"
"Doesn't say, really, and except for the reports of people going missing from that house for nearly two hundred years, nothing else." Sam frowned at his phone. "Still no signal."
"Great. Hey, does that look like a dust cloud to you?" Dean said, pointing at a smudge on the horizon. "Maybe someone on an ATV, or- hey! They do speed trials on mudflats, don't they? Racing cars!"
"The salt flats in Utah? Maybe..." Sam put away his phone again and shielded his eyes. "I don't see any kind of support crew though."
"Maybe we're at the wrong end of the track." Dean shaded his eyes. "Moving damn slow for speed trials... Could push it faster by hand."
"At least we'll be able to find out where we are, maybe hitch a ride..." Sam blinked at the shape coming out of the dust cloud. "Uhhh... Dean...?"
"...No freakin' way."
They both stood and stared as the dust cloud cleared, revealing a covered wagon pulled by oxen, rolling along the mudflats.
-
( Onward to Part 2)
Post A/N: Okay. I swear this started out as pure pointless crack. But then it got plot, and logic of a sort, and started rampaging until it was freaking bunzilla, and now there's research of all things and what kind of nutbucket does research for crackfic? Honestly.
So, um... yeah. This is only the first bit. Will it be continued? Yeah, if I plan to ever get my brain back. Will it be complete before the September 20th crackfic challenge deadline? *looks at watch* No way in hell. Will it be done before Season 3 starts? Doubtful. I'm hoping to post updates every couple weeks, unless life gets in the way, which it very well might.
Post A/N2: Re: Blink Monster effect. This wasn't really gone into in the Doctor Who episode, but the Doctor tells the one guy not to get up fast. I'm extrapolating that there's kind of a residual effect where there's a temporal fluctuation and the rate of neuron communication doesn't match up right away... meh. Basically, I wanted the boys wiggling around in the dust conversating, okay?
Characters: Dean, Sam, eventually... others
Rating: GEN, PG13
Word Count: 2261 words
Disclaimer: None of this is mine! None of it! It all belongs to a bunch of other people!
Warnings: The boys are beyond the end of Season 2 here, so there will be incidental spoilers for season 2. Also spoilers for... Um. Heheh. In this bit? Parts of Doctor Who Season 3. *whistles innocently* Other than that, nothing content-wise that couldn't have been aired...
Summary: Sam and Dean go hunt something. Things go wrong in unusual ways...
A/N: I can't believe I'm doing this. I've taken liberties with certain after-effects of a monster's attack strictly for some cheap comedy, and also taken mild liberties with American climatology. I'll be taking many more liberties later, trust me. Originally started for the spn_crackfic challenge "Out of Time". And, yeah, it's... kind of a crossover... So I'm mangling more than just the Supernatural universe with this...
Between a Quantum Rock and a Hard Place
Part 1
by CaffieneKitty
Sam closed his left eye. Opened it. Closed his right eye. Opened it. "I'll be damned," he muttered to the stone angel statue three feet away. "This book was right." Closed his left eye. Opened it. Closed his right eye. Opened it. Damn, blinking one eye at a time needed a hell of a lot of focus and attention.
"Dean! Found a mirror yet?" he called again, closing the book on the loose paper and shuffling backward a step, eyes on the statue.
Something indistinguishable and possibly profane echoed from a far part of the building.
Sam's backward-questing foot knocked over a stack of old newspapers. Mold spores flew everywhere. The bar-trivia factoid that it is nearly impossible to sneeze with your eyes open flashed through Sam's mind before-
"Oh, cra- a- AH CHOOO!"
He felt the grip of the angel's cold hands, and then the world dropped out from under him.
-
"What do you mean, they only move when no one's looking?" Dean had said over a week ago.
"Exactly that, Dean. When you aren't looking at the statues, they move, really fast. If you even blink they can get you. That's what it says in this book anyway. Bobby's not sure where he got it." Sam turned the leather-bound journal over in his hands, flipped to the page where Journal of Impossible Things was scrawled. "Says he's had it for years."
"Statues that move, but only when someone's not looking at them? And that's why people are disappearing without any trace of blood or remains left behind?"
"We've seen weirder."
"...true. What about cameras? Would a camera work? Or a mirror?"
"Camera, no, it has to be something living. Mirror... maybe. We can try it."
Dean shrugged. "Yeah, sure we can hang around the creepy old house all night playing hide and seek with the statue, or we can just take 'im out." He grinned and pulled a grenade out of the weapons duffel, shaking it slightly to jingle the pin.
"Blow it up?"
"Sure, why not? Get up to it, super-glue the grenade somewhere vital, use a string to pull the pin, and run like hell. House is condemned anyway, and nothing's immune to a grenade or two."
-
"I can't believe these freakin' things are immune to grenades," Dean muttered, opening another door and scanning quickly with the flashlight. "Quanta-whatsis-lock stupid bastard freaking angels."
At least they'd figured out the immunity to grenades thing while it was still in the garden, and left a crater out on the tiled patio, rather than bringing down the house. Of course then the damned thing went into the house of too many rooms and no mirrors. "Who lived in this damned house, vampires?" Dean muttered.
Sam's voice echoed down the stairwell. "...mirror yet?"
"Bite me!" Dean shouted over his shoulder, "You 'n your goddamned weeping angel too!" Dean moved to the next room, shining the flashlight around. "Ha!" Something reflected in the dim recesses of the room.
"...wa-choo!" echoed down the stairwell.
"Gesundheit," muttered Dean, pulling some rotting canvas off the tall frame. Ha, it was a mirror. A huge mirror. "'S gonna be a bitch to get up the stairs." He stood back and considered the thing. Huge. Something was bugging him. Not the mirror, though he kinda didn't trust them after Blo-.
Outside the room, the stairs creaked, something big descending fast. Bigger than Sam.
Sneezes. Your eyes close when you-
Dean half-turned toward the sound, and didn't see his reflection in the mirror suddenly grow white stone wings, white hands like claws blurring down to grab his shoulders.
In a split-second, too fast to step aside or even think, he landed ass-first on sun-baked mud.
-
Sam opened his eyes and squinted into the sun. Felt like a grenade was going off behind his eyes so he closed them again. Something lumpy and prickly was underneath him. Cactus? Great.
Remembering the angel suddenly he opened his eyes wide and looked all around. No angel. No room, no house, no yard, no overgrown plantation, no state of Louisiana, nothing but mud-flats and cactus, as far as he could see. Also no Dean. Also just great. Sam gingerly rolled off the cluster of cactus and lay there for a minute waiting for the world to stop spinning.
The solid whump of a body hitting ground sounded close and to his left. Sam turned his head to see Dean fall over sideways, curling up and squirming in the dust.
"Dean!" Sam shouted, and tried to get to his feet and run towards his rolling, cursing brother, but found himself abruptly face-first on the ground. His legs hadn't moved. That was weird.
"Sam? Sam!" Dean shouted, doing some kind of bizarre torso twist-thing like a trained seal lunging for a particularly tasty fish, and fell over again. "What the hell?"
"Uh... I did that too. I went to take a step, and my foot didn't actually move, even though I thought it had, fell over." Sam's foot kicked out into the air. "Okay, there it goes now."
Dean's arms shot out in front of him. "Dude, what the-"
"I dunno, Dean, but maybe it'll pass. The weeping angel got you?"
"Yeah," Dean squinted around. "Where are we? Where's the hou- Dammit! Where's my car!" Dean tried fumbling to his feet and wound up executing what looked like an innovative break-dancing routine and landed on his face again. He spat out dust. "This? Sucks."
Sam tried moving his leg and noticed only a one second delay. "At least you didn't land on a cactus patch."
"Seriously?" Dean snickered. "That's like a total Wile E. Coyote maneuver, dude."
Sam found there was no time delay at all on his disdainful glare.
"So, what... are we dead?" said Dean, worming his way towards Sam. "Did the damn thing kill us, is this like purgatory or something?"
"I don't think so..." Sam wiggled his fingers, moving at the same time as he wanted them too. "Maybe Arizona?"
"Who knows. Might be the middle of Australia, but I don't think they've got cactuses there."
"It's cacti, Dean," said Sam, reaching back to ease his phone from the only back pocket not full of ouch, and pull it slowly up to where he could see it.
Dean wriggled around and squinted at Sam. "Dude, we've been sent to the middle of a freakin' desert by an overgrown lawn ornament and you're correcting me about the plural form of cactus?"
Sam scowled and glared at the phone he'd spent the last eternity getting access to before easing it back into his pocket.
Dean watched what might have been an eagle or a buzzard circling overhead and twitched his limbs. "Lemmee guess, after all that, no signal?"
"Yeah." Sam stretched his arm and adventurously started picking out cactus spines he could reach. "So, you figure these angels don't kill people, maybe they just send them somewhere else?"
"Where though? Arizona? Australia?" Dean wriggled around until his hand caught up with his torso and he pushed himself into a sitting position. "None of the people that went missing ever showed up again Sam, and neither place is that hard to come back from. Did that book say anything else?"
"Uh," said Sam, wincing as he pulled out a particularly invasive cactus spine. "Naw, after the bit about the quantum lock thing it went off into... other stuff."
"Like what, maybe it'll help."
"I don't think so. Something about a robot dog."
Dean stared at Sam. "Robot dog."
"Um. Yeah."
"We went on a hunt based on info you found in a book with a robot dog in it?" Dean said flatly.
"Not only based on the book. There were the pictures from the newspaper. It had moved." Sam met his brother's unimpressed eyes. "The angel needed stopped, Dean! People were going missing!"
"Oh for- Now we're missing, Sam! We don't know where we are or how we got here, we can't even walk straight right now, and I don't know about you, but feel like I've been stabbed in the brain! I don't need to hear about a book of lore with a robot dog in it!"
"It was right about the angel though," Sam said in his best tone of reasonableness, "and you know hunters as well as I do. They're all a bit nuts in some way. I guess this guy had a thing about... robot dogs."
Dean glared at a clump of mud for half a second before his hand came around and swatted it away. "Damn thing better not be drivin' my car, Sam. Solid stone, thing will screw up the suspension for sure. I don't even want to think about the seats."
Sam threw another cactus spine away and tried getting to his feet. Wobbly, but at least everything was moving when he told it to. He pulled out his cell phone again.
"It's weird, there's no signal at all, not even one bar. GPS isn't even picking up."
"It'd be just perfect if we were smack in the middle of the old nuke-testing grounds," Dean said sourly.
"I don't think so, Dean."
"What do we gotta do to figure out where we are? Wait 'til nightfall and figure it out from the stars?"
"We can figure out what time zone we're in, I guess."
"Won't help much, but it'll be something." Dean got to his feet with a bit of advance planning, swayed and clung to Sam's shoulder like a sailor on high seas. "This totally sucks."
"Dean," gritted Sam, "Cactus."
"Ah, damn, sorry Sammy," Dean let go of Sam's shoulder and fell over. "Crap!"
"You should be about back to normal soon, if it's going the same way as mine did." Sam held out a hand to Dean. "Just watch the spines."
"Right," said Dean, begrudgingly accepting being hauled to his feet. "So, time zones." He looked at his wristwatch. "What time have you got, Sam?"
"I've got 4:38, and my watch is still running."
"Same here." Dean looked at the sun, close to directly overhead. "Twenty to five in the afternoon in Louisiana, and noonish here means..." Dean shook his head. "We'd be somewhere way off the coast of Cali in the Pacific, or maybe the Alaska panhandle. Whatever the angel did, we lost time from it."
"Felt instantaneous." Sam shifted foot to foot. "At least we know it can't be the Demon."
"Yep. He's out of the way for good." Dean looked at the surrounding expanse of mostly nothing. "We need to start by figuring out exactly where we are. Find some civilization."
"How? Picking a random direction and walking doesn't sound like the world's brightest idea and what else do we have to go on?"
Dean nodded his head to the east. "There's a bit of a rise over there, maybe we'll be able to see farther from on top, see if there's a road or town nearby. Who knows, maybe we're in Nevada, and we'll be able to see the Vegas Strip." He started walking. "Keep an ear out for planes. There might be a landing strip or airfield nearby with all this flat land."
Sam followed. "All I want to do is find a phone that works and call Bobby. That stone angel's still on the loose."
"Nope. I found a mirror." Dean grinned. "The bastard's stuck, now."
Sam frowned. "So you saw it in the mirror and it still got you?"
"No, I knew it was coming up behind me so I started to turn and-"
Sam looked sour. "You didn't see it."
Dean shrugged. "If I disappeared from in front of it, it got a good solid eyeshot of itself in the mirror. It ain't goin' nowhere."
"Assuming that it seeing itself counts."
Dean nodded, starting up the gentle slope of the small hill. "Well, yeah, assuming."
"And only until dark."
Dean stopped and Sam continued past him up the hill. "...crap. You are a ray of freaking sunshine, Sammy." Dean started walking again, faster. "We have to get back."
Sam reached the top of the hill and squinted around, pulling out his phone again. "Not sure where we are, but we're definitely not in the same time zone. or we've lost most of a day. Climate is totally different. We're going to need to find water and shelter if nothing else."
"How the hell can getting touched by an angel get us sent to a different time zone anyway? How does a solid stone statue do anything?" Dean side-stepped a patch of cactus and joined Sam on the top of the hill. He jerked his chin towards the book in Sam's hands. "What does your friend with the robot dog obsession say?"
"Hey, I just found it at Bobby's, it's not like I know the guy."
"Whatever, what does it say."
"That they move when no one's looking at them, and they make people disappear."
"So are they demons, ghosts, some kind of troll, what?"
"Doesn't say, really, and except for the reports of people going missing from that house for nearly two hundred years, nothing else." Sam frowned at his phone. "Still no signal."
"Great. Hey, does that look like a dust cloud to you?" Dean said, pointing at a smudge on the horizon. "Maybe someone on an ATV, or- hey! They do speed trials on mudflats, don't they? Racing cars!"
"The salt flats in Utah? Maybe..." Sam put away his phone again and shielded his eyes. "I don't see any kind of support crew though."
"Maybe we're at the wrong end of the track." Dean shaded his eyes. "Moving damn slow for speed trials... Could push it faster by hand."
"At least we'll be able to find out where we are, maybe hitch a ride..." Sam blinked at the shape coming out of the dust cloud. "Uhhh... Dean...?"
"...No freakin' way."
They both stood and stared as the dust cloud cleared, revealing a covered wagon pulled by oxen, rolling along the mudflats.
-
( Onward to Part 2)
Post A/N: Okay. I swear this started out as pure pointless crack. But then it got plot, and logic of a sort, and started rampaging until it was freaking bunzilla, and now there's research of all things and what kind of nutbucket does research for crackfic? Honestly.
So, um... yeah. This is only the first bit. Will it be continued? Yeah, if I plan to ever get my brain back. Will it be complete before the September 20th crackfic challenge deadline? *looks at watch* No way in hell. Will it be done before Season 3 starts? Doubtful. I'm hoping to post updates every couple weeks, unless life gets in the way, which it very well might.
Post A/N2: Re: Blink Monster effect. This wasn't really gone into in the Doctor Who episode, but the Doctor tells the one guy not to get up fast. I'm extrapolating that there's kind of a residual effect where there's a temporal fluctuation and the rate of neuron communication doesn't match up right away... meh. Basically, I wanted the boys wiggling around in the dust conversating, okay?