3/1, either pre or post fire escape, whichever you prefer?alifeordinaryMarch 18 2012, 09:08:45 UTC
[It's starting to hail. Shit. Shit shit shit fuck--
Sorry, Cas. It may be four in the morning, and you may be out like a light, but Dean bursts through the door anyway. He's across the room in a second, a hand wrapped around Cas's arm, shaking and tugging him out of bed.
That's right, Dean. Nice and calm like.]
Hey- Cas, wake up, come on. It's bad.
[Their apartment building is the worst place to possibly be. This shit hole doesn't have a basement level, and the lobby's entire front is glass. Going down stairs obviously isn't an option, and there is absolutely no way it's safe to try and get anywhere else. He's heard cars are the worst possible places to be during tornadoes.
The bathtub it is.
The power shut off about ten minutes ago, and it's damn dark. That's not really the worst of it, though. According to the radio, about ten miles west, a similar building had it's roof ripped off and redeposited onto a bank six blocks down. He'd been fighting the urge since he heard, but now that it's hailing
( ... )
...Rofl wow idek how that happened tbh... premature enter hahaha wtfmojofreeMarch 18 2012, 21:45:48 UTC
[[ooc: Hmmm.. Wanna do after? :0]]
Hngh-
[Which is Cas-speak for "what the everloving fuck" at four in the morning. Unless there's a fire, or someone's broken in and stolen their puppy, or the house is about to be picked up and hurled-- Oh. Right, that's actually a possibility, isn't it? Memories of the previous night's conversation about possible bad weather and an alert of some kind start to filter back in as Cas's eyes blink open, and he peers blearily at Dean through the darkness.]
'S this a drill? If it's a drill 'M gonna choke you out.
[Like he could, or would, but the sentiment stands. This had better be an emergency.
Groggily he rolls out of bed, clutching at Dean's sleeve to steady himself. Fuck, it's cold outside of his blankets... He steps into a pair of sweats as he's dragged out of the room, and now that he's more awake he can hear what sounds like howling outside, and the sharp crack of what he's guessing is hail beating on the windows
( ... )
Hahaha. I think they make pills for that. After sounds great!alifeordinaryMarch 19 2012, 07:31:01 UTC
[Normally a statement like that would earn a witty retort, or a huff of amusement at the very least. Like he does tornado drills. And also, pfft, no way Dean Winchester's getting choked out. He's way too manly for that. Dean was completely serious, though. It was like his mind flipped the switch into Protection mode. Threat perceived! Objective: Secure family. He did it well.
While Cas was shrugging on sweats, Dean was jerking his comforter off of the bed. They'd need cover in case of debris, or at least, that's what he'd seen on the news. Lay down flat in the tub and cover with a blanket. Sorry, Cas's amazing Bed, Bath & Beyond comforter, but Dean doesn't have adequate bedding an his sorry excuse for a quilt just isn't going to cut it right now.
He tossed it over his shoulder and kindly escorted Cas out of the room by a firm arm around his waist.]
He's in his crate in the bathroom. He was freaking out and I had to get you.
[Cold, apparently, was not a fan of storms. Every flash of lightening and roll of thunder sent him bolting
( ... )
Lmao I need to invest in a few, clearly.mojofreeMarch 19 2012, 19:51:14 UTC
[Even Cas, who will sometimes argue just for the sake of arguing, can't argue that: Dean assumes protection mode like a pro.
He would grunt in protest at the manhandling of his blanket, but, well, he's getting the feeling that now is not one of those times to argue about stupid shit like mistreatment of a bedspread. There will be time to teach Dean the proper respect for inanimate objects when the sky isn't falling.
Heh. That almost makes Dean Chicken Little. It'd be funnier if he wasn't in crisis mode. [He rubs at his eyes, though it does nothing to help him see any better- it's fucking dark.]
Probably the safest place for him, good thinking.
[Storms suck and Cas can't blame Colt for losing his puppy shit- if he were a teeny- well, slightly less teeny, now- ball of fluff, he'd be freaking out too. As it is though, he's surprisingly calm,calmer than he ever imagined he could be with a tornado warning in effect, anyway. There's no doubt as to why- Dean's doing his thing, taking charge of the situation like he does, and there'
( ... )
Lookit those fifty million typos, sorry, it was like five a.m., hurdur.alifeordinaryMarch 19 2012, 22:23:21 UTC
[It may be crisis mode, but Dean would still punch him if he called him Chicken Little. There was always time to defend his own manly honor. He pressed the phone harder to his ear, as though that would somehow encourage Sam to pick up the damn phone, but nothing doing. It went straight to voicemail. Son of a bitch. It took some serious restraint to keep from hurling the goddamn thing across the room and into a wall.
That wouldn't be smart, though. They needed it in case of emergency, so he slipped it into his jeans pocket and slammed the door shut behind them. The dark seemed to calm Colt down a little, though he was still clawing at the cage and whining as loudly as his poor little throat could muster. Dean felt like a total dick for sticking him in there, he hated that thing on a normal day, but it couldn't really be helped.]
Bathtub.
[It was muttered, but still an order, and he nearly tripped crossing the room. Right, shit, stupid blanket on his shoulder getting tangled up in his feet. He cussed under his breath, slapped a hand
( ... )
No worries hahaha tbh I didn't notice any XD;mojofreeMarch 20 2012, 21:16:59 UTC
[He makes a face, not that Dean can see it.]
I'll get right on it, chief. [Colt whines again, and Cas really just can't take it anymore-- he unlatches the crate and scoops him up, glares at the tub (or what he can make out of it, anyway) as if it's its fault this is happening, and although he feels completely ridiculous, settles himself down with Colt resting between his legs.] Colt's in here too, he seems calmer this way.
[And if Cas gets scratched to hell the during the next round of insane thunder and lightening, well, he'd prefer that to Colt wailing away in the crate. He runs his hands over soft fur, trying to soothe the poor little guy into calming down- he's still shaking when Cas looks up at the sound of Dean stomping across the room. He thinks he can make out the silhouette of what looks like Dean stumbling, and frowns.]
It's pretty bad out there, he's smart enough to go someplace safe, isn't he?
[Not that that's going to help at all- he knows nothing short of absolute confirmation is going to make Dean feel even a
( ... )
And then you wake up to fifty million tags, I'm so sorry.alifeordinaryMarch 30 2012, 01:35:31 UTC
[His foot comes into contact with the crate mid-step, and the metal door jerks forward to smack into the tub. He lets out a grunt, regains his balance, and feels around for the edge of it. Okay, there, awesome. Now, just... formulate a plan. They've got a nice bathroom, showering together's fine, but two dudes and a dog are going to be a tight squeeze.]
Where are you? Which side?
[Because he's got, just, really shitty night vision apparently, and he'd been too preoccupied trying not to fall over when Cas spoke a moment ago to use echolocation.
He doesn't answer the question about Sam. It's not whether he's smart enough- he is, the guy was in Stanford. It's whether he's sober enough, and whether or not he's going to be more concerned with if he's allowed to shoot up in his current location. Bobby's got a storm cellar in his basement, some old bunker they put in during world war two, or the cold war, or shit, some kind of war where everyone was afraid of dying. Whatever, either way, the thing could get them through a hurricane no
( ... )
NEVER BE SORRY. All of the tags. c:mojofreeApril 2 2012, 01:18:33 UTC
[He jumps slightly at the metallic clang of the door hitting the tub, drawing his arms a bit more tightly around Colt in an effort to keep him calm. Poor little dude's not happy, and Cas doesn't blame him at all. This is a lot more dire than he'd imagined it becoming when he'd heard the newscast earlier in the day, and as if the weather wasn't bad enough, Cas is worried about Sam too- they're not exactly bosom buddies, but he's a good guy when he's straight, and Cas certainly doesn't want to see anything happen to him.]
Left. Colt's in the middle, here-- [He scoops Colt up a bit more, makes sure his paws and tail aren't about to get stepped on.] --Okay. You're good.
[He takes Dean's silence for what it is: not good. It sounds like it's getting worse outside, and if cell reception is bad now he can't imagine it getting better any time soon... It's going to become harder to get in contact with anyone else before it gets better, and he's really just wishing this would all blow away.
The shop's going to be wrecked. Fuck, fuck
( ... )
[He moves forward, socked feet nearly slipping in the tub when he steps in. Braces a hand against the tiled wall, and slides down, legs bumping Cas's and knees going up to his chest uncomfortably. As soon as he gets settled, he can feel the metal of the tap digging into his side, and he grunts unhappily, leaning uncomfortably away.]
Alright, hang on, I have a better idea.
[This is taking some serious fanagling, they're too tall for this shit, and Dean's so not spending all night with that metal bastard dripping on him. He shoves up again, steps over to Cas's side of the tub and nudges him forward.]
Stick your feet that way, kinda, face the shower, I'm gonna slide in behind you.
[Tub-meets-rowboat, even if Dean's knees are going to be pressed hard into the wall and the side of the tub, it's better than the alternative. And he feels a little better about it, too, as though having Cas between his legs will enable him to engage in protection mode better when things go down
( ... )
[He feels Dean settling in, tries his very best to get out of the way... But no dice. They are too tall for this shit. Fucking midget bathtubs. When this is over they're getting a damn jacuzzi or something. Put Bath Fitter to work, he doesn't know. It really is uncomfortable, and so he's glad when Dean claims to have a better idea.
He shifts forward as Dean nudges his back, chuckling softly at the proposed postion.]
Kinky.
[Not really the time for it, but hey, this mood needs some serious lightening right about now. He's still as Dean settles himself into the tub for a second time, and yeah, that's worlds better. True, his legs are still bent in a way that he just knows is going to be hell in a few hours, and it's a tight fit, but it's definitely better than before. Colt whines and Cas passes his hand over his head soothingly as he tips his own back slightly against Dean's chest. Sighing, he stays that way for a second before reaching over the side of the tub to grab for his comforter.]
[Damn is all for the idea of having a nice little chat with the bath fitter people. Totally worth whatever the cost will be. All in the name of tornado safety, of course. Also, in the name of bathtub sex. He's sure bathtub sex is amazing. Apart from the water splashing all over the floor.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, he can't help a snort that comes out at Cas's cheerful kinky. He's pretty sure this is about as far as sexy as things can get. The town's getting it's ass tore up, his knee's being pressed into the wall, and there's a freaked-out dog whimpering in the background. Not his ideal night.
It's not so bad, with Cas's head pressed to his chest, but he's too wired about Sam to be able to take a deep breath and relax.]
Yeah. Guess so. Maybe being under the blanket'll calm him down a little.
[He shifts a bit, leans back against the cold wall. Outside, the hail picks up loudly, and he can hear the wind baring down on the side of the building. Distantly, there's the sound of breaking glass, but it doesn't seem to be
( ... )
[Eh, that's what mops are for. Cas would imagine there's something to be said about the jets in one of those amazing giant bathtubs, and their totally practical uses during bathtub sex.
Bathtub sex is, admittedly, the furthest thing from his mind at this point though, the cramped space, the whole possible impending death and destruction thing... And of course the totally miserable dog whining between his legs all curled up in a ball. Nope, nothing sexy about it. It is nicer this way, though, and he settles the comforter around the three of them and relaxes just a bit against Dean's chest.]
It should. It's warm and dark, dogs like warm and dark, right?
[Or maybe Cas is thinking of himself. Warm and dark.. Mm. He's more than a little rattled too, certainly, but he'd also been sleeping not twenty minutes ago and his brain seems to be unwilling to give that up even under these most dire circumstances. It wins, too, for about two seconds, until that shattering-glass sound has him jerking up a bit, blinking around even though it
( ... )
[Those jets are something to think about. You know, some time when they aren't about to be horrendously torn apart by an act of God. An arm snakes around Cas's side to find Colt in the darkness, strokes a hand over his head by way of apology for shoving him into the crate a moment ago. Now that they're all safe and in one place, he can relax a little, though the thought of Sam out there still freaks his shit.]
Sounds reasonable enough. He was swan-diving for the underside of the couch, I'm guessing that was the reasoning there.
[He nods, tightens his arms around Cas when the breaking glass causes him to jerk. Not like there's anything either of them can do about it now, they've just got to wait it out. And it's the damn middle of the night. He wouldn't blame Cas for trying to sleep through it.]
No idea. Sounds like it was movin' pretty quick, but I missed a few days of Meteorology class. Just... try and relax, alright?
[He dug his hand into his pocket for his phone, lit up the room with a glow as he punched in Sam's number again.]
So I watched Storm Stories yesterday. GROSS. SOBBING. alkdfjhajkmojofreeApril 5 2012, 14:39:28 UTC
Probably. Poor little guy.
[New tub complete with jets needs to be a thing. There's no question, even if the tornado does rip their roof off, at least they'll have a nice bath to look forward to... Among other bathtub activities. And hey, if the place is demolished, they'll have an excuse. Silver lining.
He hums softly as that arm tightens around his waist, hand dropping to rest automatically atop Dean's. Relax, yeah, he'll get right on that. Just as soon as the hail and insane wind stop and the threat of imminent death passes. Sighing, he tips his head back against Dean's chest again, lets his heartbeat- which he notes is quicker than usual- serve as a sort of soothing rhythm, a balm against the furiously pounding hail and howling wind.]
Mm. Is this normal for the area?
[Tornados had been the furthest thing from anyone's mind where he's from; it's just not something he'd had to think about. He wonders if it's just the season or if this is a regular worry here... He supposes it would have been a good idea to look into
( ... )
I have no idea what that is, but it sounds intense.alifeordinaryApril 10 2012, 09:17:54 UTC
[He does feel a little better as Cas leans into him. He's a physical creature by nature, so Cas's head against his chest is reaffirming and calming. Evidently Cold agrees, because the whining has quieted to just the occasional frightened whimper. It would almost be nice if it weren't for the hail, the tub digging into his knees, and the worry about Sam.
The phone rings, rings, rings, and he shakes his head at Cas's question.]
Not usually. You're bad luck, man. I still blame you for that time we got snowed in, and that time- Sam?
[He jerked upright, letting go of Cas's waist to push a finger into his free ear- as though it would possibly help. The storm's practically sucking out the signal, and wherever Sam is doesn't seem too much better. He can only get a few snatches. "-Ean.... oo- 'ear me? Ca-... obby's."]
Sam? Sam- hey- I can barely hear you, man, where the hell are you I've been calling-
[He gets a few more flickers of signal, enough to discern that he made it to the panic room at Bobby's, and evidently took Ruby with him
( ... )
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Sorry, Cas. It may be four in the morning, and you may be out like a light, but Dean bursts through the door anyway. He's across the room in a second, a hand wrapped around Cas's arm, shaking and tugging him out of bed.
That's right, Dean. Nice and calm like.]
Hey- Cas, wake up, come on. It's bad.
[Their apartment building is the worst place to possibly be. This shit hole doesn't have a basement level, and the lobby's entire front is glass. Going down stairs obviously isn't an option, and there is absolutely no way it's safe to try and get anywhere else. He's heard cars are the worst possible places to be during tornadoes.
The bathtub it is.
The power shut off about ten minutes ago, and it's damn dark. That's not really the worst of it, though. According to the radio, about ten miles west, a similar building had it's roof ripped off and redeposited onto a bank six blocks down. He'd been fighting the urge since he heard, but now that it's hailing ( ... )
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Hngh-
[Which is Cas-speak for "what the everloving fuck" at four in the morning. Unless there's a fire, or someone's broken in and stolen their puppy, or the house is about to be picked up and hurled-- Oh. Right, that's actually a possibility, isn't it? Memories of the previous night's conversation about possible bad weather and an alert of some kind start to filter back in as Cas's eyes blink open, and he peers blearily at Dean through the darkness.]
'S this a drill? If it's a drill 'M gonna choke you out.
[Like he could, or would, but the sentiment stands. This had better be an emergency.
Groggily he rolls out of bed, clutching at Dean's sleeve to steady himself. Fuck, it's cold outside of his blankets... He steps into a pair of sweats as he's dragged out of the room, and now that he's more awake he can hear what sounds like howling outside, and the sharp crack of what he's guessing is hail beating on the windows ( ... )
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While Cas was shrugging on sweats, Dean was jerking his comforter off of the bed. They'd need cover in case of debris, or at least, that's what he'd seen on the news. Lay down flat in the tub and cover with a blanket. Sorry, Cas's amazing Bed, Bath & Beyond comforter, but Dean doesn't have adequate bedding an his sorry excuse for a quilt just isn't going to cut it right now.
He tossed it over his shoulder and kindly escorted Cas out of the room by a firm arm around his waist.]
He's in his crate in the bathroom. He was freaking out and I had to get you.
[Cold, apparently, was not a fan of storms. Every flash of lightening and roll of thunder sent him bolting ( ... )
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He would grunt in protest at the manhandling of his blanket, but, well, he's getting the feeling that now is not one of those times to argue about stupid shit like mistreatment of a bedspread. There will be time to teach Dean the proper respect for inanimate objects when the sky isn't falling.
Heh. That almost makes Dean Chicken Little. It'd be funnier if he wasn't in crisis mode. [He rubs at his eyes, though it does nothing to help him see any better- it's fucking dark.]
Probably the safest place for him, good thinking.
[Storms suck and Cas can't blame Colt for losing his puppy shit- if he were a teeny- well, slightly less teeny, now- ball of fluff, he'd be freaking out too. As it is though, he's surprisingly calm,calmer than he ever imagined he could be with a tornado warning in effect, anyway. There's no doubt as to why- Dean's doing his thing, taking charge of the situation like he does, and there' ( ... )
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That wouldn't be smart, though. They needed it in case of emergency, so he slipped it into his jeans pocket and slammed the door shut behind them. The dark seemed to calm Colt down a little, though he was still clawing at the cage and whining as loudly as his poor little throat could muster. Dean felt like a total dick for sticking him in there, he hated that thing on a normal day, but it couldn't really be helped.]
Bathtub.
[It was muttered, but still an order, and he nearly tripped crossing the room. Right, shit, stupid blanket on his shoulder getting tangled up in his feet. He cussed under his breath, slapped a hand ( ... )
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I'll get right on it, chief. [Colt whines again, and Cas really just can't take it anymore-- he unlatches the crate and scoops him up, glares at the tub (or what he can make out of it, anyway) as if it's its fault this is happening, and although he feels completely ridiculous, settles himself down with Colt resting between his legs.] Colt's in here too, he seems calmer this way.
[And if Cas gets scratched to hell the during the next round of insane thunder and lightening, well, he'd prefer that to Colt wailing away in the crate. He runs his hands over soft fur, trying to soothe the poor little guy into calming down- he's still shaking when Cas looks up at the sound of Dean stomping across the room. He thinks he can make out the silhouette of what looks like Dean stumbling, and frowns.]
It's pretty bad out there, he's smart enough to go someplace safe, isn't he?
[Not that that's going to help at all- he knows nothing short of absolute confirmation is going to make Dean feel even a ( ... )
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Where are you? Which side?
[Because he's got, just, really shitty night vision apparently, and he'd been too preoccupied trying not to fall over when Cas spoke a moment ago to use echolocation.
He doesn't answer the question about Sam. It's not whether he's smart enough- he is, the guy was in Stanford. It's whether he's sober enough, and whether or not he's going to be more concerned with if he's allowed to shoot up in his current location. Bobby's got a storm cellar in his basement, some old bunker they put in during world war two, or the cold war, or shit, some kind of war where everyone was afraid of dying. Whatever, either way, the thing could get them through a hurricane no ( ... )
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Left. Colt's in the middle, here-- [He scoops Colt up a bit more, makes sure his paws and tail aren't about to get stepped on.] --Okay. You're good.
[He takes Dean's silence for what it is: not good. It sounds like it's getting worse outside, and if cell reception is bad now he can't imagine it getting better any time soon... It's going to become harder to get in contact with anyone else before it gets better, and he's really just wishing this would all blow away.
The shop's going to be wrecked. Fuck, fuck ( ... )
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Alright, hang on, I have a better idea.
[This is taking some serious fanagling, they're too tall for this shit, and Dean's so not spending all night with that metal bastard dripping on him. He shoves up again, steps over to Cas's side of the tub and nudges him forward.]
Stick your feet that way, kinda, face the shower, I'm gonna slide in behind you.
[Tub-meets-rowboat, even if Dean's knees are going to be pressed hard into the wall and the side of the tub, it's better than the alternative. And he feels a little better about it, too, as though having Cas between his legs will enable him to engage in protection mode better when things go down ( ... )
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He shifts forward as Dean nudges his back, chuckling softly at the proposed postion.]
Kinky.
[Not really the time for it, but hey, this mood needs some serious lightening right about now. He's still as Dean settles himself into the tub for a second time, and yeah, that's worlds better. True, his legs are still bent in a way that he just knows is going to be hell in a few hours, and it's a tight fit, but it's definitely better than before. Colt whines and Cas passes his hand over his head soothingly as he tips his own back slightly against Dean's chest. Sighing, he stays that way for a second before reaching over the side of the tub to grab for his comforter.]
Might as well get comfortable.
[ ( ... )
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Despite the seriousness of the situation, he can't help a snort that comes out at Cas's cheerful kinky. He's pretty sure this is about as far as sexy as things can get. The town's getting it's ass tore up, his knee's being pressed into the wall, and there's a freaked-out dog whimpering in the background. Not his ideal night.
It's not so bad, with Cas's head pressed to his chest, but he's too wired about Sam to be able to take a deep breath and relax.]
Yeah. Guess so. Maybe being under the blanket'll calm him down a little.
[He shifts a bit, leans back against the cold wall. Outside, the hail picks up loudly, and he can hear the wind baring down on the side of the building. Distantly, there's the sound of breaking glass, but it doesn't seem to be ( ... )
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Bathtub sex is, admittedly, the furthest thing from his mind at this point though, the cramped space, the whole possible impending death and destruction thing... And of course the totally miserable dog whining between his legs all curled up in a ball. Nope, nothing sexy about it. It is nicer this way, though, and he settles the comforter around the three of them and relaxes just a bit against Dean's chest.]
It should. It's warm and dark, dogs like warm and dark, right?
[Or maybe Cas is thinking of himself. Warm and dark.. Mm. He's more than a little rattled too, certainly, but he'd also been sleeping not twenty minutes ago and his brain seems to be unwilling to give that up even under these most dire circumstances. It wins, too, for about two seconds, until that shattering-glass sound has him jerking up a bit, blinking around even though it ( ... )
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Sounds reasonable enough. He was swan-diving for the underside of the couch, I'm guessing that was the reasoning there.
[He nods, tightens his arms around Cas when the breaking glass causes him to jerk. Not like there's anything either of them can do about it now, they've just got to wait it out. And it's the damn middle of the night. He wouldn't blame Cas for trying to sleep through it.]
No idea. Sounds like it was movin' pretty quick, but I missed a few days of Meteorology class. Just... try and relax, alright?
[He dug his hand into his pocket for his phone, lit up the room with a glow as he punched in Sam's number again.]
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[New tub complete with jets needs to be a thing. There's no question, even if the tornado does rip their roof off, at least they'll have a nice bath to look forward to... Among other bathtub activities. And hey, if the place is demolished, they'll have an excuse. Silver lining.
He hums softly as that arm tightens around his waist, hand dropping to rest automatically atop Dean's. Relax, yeah, he'll get right on that. Just as soon as the hail and insane wind stop and the threat of imminent death passes. Sighing, he tips his head back against Dean's chest again, lets his heartbeat- which he notes is quicker than usual- serve as a sort of soothing rhythm, a balm against the furiously pounding hail and howling wind.]
Mm. Is this normal for the area?
[Tornados had been the furthest thing from anyone's mind where he's from; it's just not something he'd had to think about. He wonders if it's just the season or if this is a regular worry here... He supposes it would have been a good idea to look into ( ... )
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The phone rings, rings, rings, and he shakes his head at Cas's question.]
Not usually. You're bad luck, man. I still blame you for that time we got snowed in, and that time- Sam?
[He jerked upright, letting go of Cas's waist to push a finger into his free ear- as though it would possibly help. The storm's practically sucking out the signal, and wherever Sam is doesn't seem too much better. He can only get a few snatches. "-Ean.... oo- 'ear me? Ca-... obby's."]
Sam? Sam- hey- I can barely hear you, man, where the hell are you I've been calling-
[He gets a few more flickers of signal, enough to discern that he made it to the panic room at Bobby's, and evidently took Ruby with him ( ... )
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