(pre-series/s1) Sam Winchester | Supernatural | openonlytobenormalJuly 30 2012, 22:40:40 UTC
There was nothing worse than waking up and literally remembering nothing about yourself at all. He didn't know his name or why he'd been laying outside of some decrepit old building in the first place... and just forget it when he finally stumbled across his reflection when he'd finally made it back to a small town.
He just didn't recognize himself at all.
He found an ID in his wallet that let him know his name was Sam Winchester at least and a bit of money, and some keys, but that was about it. There were a bunch of names in his cell, but he had no idea who to call first or how to explain himself so he put it on hold for now. He needed to calm down first anyway.
He pushed a hand through his hair and looked around, trying to see if he recognized anything about this town at all. He knew he probably looked as lost as he felt, but he couldn't bring himself to mask it, not yet.
A large black car pulled up next to Sam with a very freaked out and pissed off driver. Seeing his little brother he immediately pulled over and got out of the car. "Thank fuck!". He walked over to Sam, not knowing what to do with how relieved he was to see him, trying to decide between smacking him and hugging him. The final decision was a punch to the arm and an annoyed expression. "The hell is wrong with you? I know you haven't been on the job in awhile but guess what? You don't just randomly leave! I thought you were dead or kidnapped or something!"
(your choice if this is strict cannon or our boys who got together)
This wasn't helping Sam calm down any, not with this weird guy coming up to him... pissed off? He winced at the punch and backed up, brows furrowed in confusion. "Hey, I don't know what's going on here, but back off."
Jesus, what kind of life did he have if it was possible he could have been dead or kidnapped... He was so confused, scared. His breath came in quick little, heart racing as panic set in. "How long have I been gone?"
(Hmm! I'm cool either way... guess we haven't played our boys in that verse in awhile though?)
Dean did back off a little, looking kind of embarassed as he took Sam's panic or annoyance. "Well...I mean technically only a couple hours..but I didn't knw where you were! Pick up ur god damn phone! I texted!". But he knew he did tend to panic, he couldn't help that he to worried. "Just...whatever, get in the car."
((ooc: ok, we can do them a litte later on? When Dean is slightly less of a spazz about the whole thing?)
"I didn't see a text..." He hadn't really thought to check them. He rubbed a hand through his hair as he eyed the other warily before turning his attention to the car.
"I don't know about that," he murmured. "Look, something-- something's wrong with me. I don't even know who you are."
"The hell do you mean you don't know me?". Suddenly he seemed to understand what was wrong and rolled his eyes. "This about last night? Dude I told you I was just flirting, it didn't mean anything. Just...just get in the car. Case is over, we head out in the morning."
"What?" Oh, god... what? He pulled a face, more confusion setting in. Apparently this guy was what? His boyfriend? So he was gay? Pr something. That still didn't answer much for him though...
"No. I mean... I don't even know who I am. I'm being serious. I woke up outside this old house and I somehow made it here. Dude, I don't know who you are or what we are, but right now? I don't care about flirting or whatever."
"You're...you're kidding right?". He laughed but it came out sounded a little nervous. "Sammy ts me...it's Dean. Come on man, you know me I practically raised you.". Sam was just fucking around. He had to be.
"Dude, how old are you?" He didn't look old enough to have raised him or whatever. "I thought you were like a boyfriend or something... why would I care if you flirt or not?"
Wait, that wasn't important really... well, not as important anyway. "If I come with you, will you please explain what the hell is going on, man?"
I'm 27..." he frowned, not knowing what his age had to do with anything. "Boyfriend?! No, I....we're brothers..." yeah this was gonna get complicated really fast. "Look forget the flirting thing, just get in the car and we'll figure this out, I promise.". Shit Sam wasn't kidding...this was so very very not good.
"Okay," he murmured, hesitant, before he went to slip in the car finally, biting at his lower lip. He was still on the verge of panicking but he wasn't trying to trust Dean here.
"Good, I'm glad Sammy.". He slipped into the drivers seat and started towards their motel room a few blocks away. "You...you remember this car at all? We kinda grew up in it."
"Do you always call me Sammy?" There was some little part of him that was irked by it... not a lot, but enough to bug him. He shifted in his seat, studying the dash, looking around the car. "I don't know... Everything is just hazy. And uh- you said case, right? What are we, cops?"
"Sorry," but he couldn't help the tiny smile. Some things never changed.
"Uh...no," he laughed. "No we are not cops. We...well we help people. Don't worry about it.". They pulled into the parking lot and Dean started to get nervous, remembering they'd gotten a room with one bed. "You should lay down or something...or maybe go to the hospital? Maybe you got hit in the head. That's how it works on sitcoms."
"Dude, it's hard to not worry right now." About anything... everything. He couldn't remember anything about himself or what they did. Why was he even at some creepy old house in the first place?
"I don't think I hit it... my head feels fine," he murmured, going to slip out of the car... though he didn't know where their room was. "I don't want to go to the hospital. What do I even tell them?"
"I don't know Sam! I'm just...I got nothing.". He got out of the car and headed for their room. "We'll figure it out, I promise.". Unlocking the door he walked inside the motel room full of dirty clothes, weird old books, and a few weapons. "Here we are, home sweet crappy home for this week."
He just didn't recognize himself at all.
He found an ID in his wallet that let him know his name was Sam Winchester at least and a bit of money, and some keys, but that was about it. There were a bunch of names in his cell, but he had no idea who to call first or how to explain himself so he put it on hold for now. He needed to calm down first anyway.
He pushed a hand through his hair and looked around, trying to see if he recognized anything about this town at all. He knew he probably looked as lost as he felt, but he couldn't bring himself to mask it, not yet.
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(your choice if this is strict cannon or our boys who got together)
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Jesus, what kind of life did he have if it was possible he could have been dead or kidnapped... He was so confused, scared. His breath came in quick little, heart racing as panic set in. "How long have I been gone?"
(Hmm! I'm cool either way... guess we haven't played our boys in that verse in awhile though?)
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((ooc: ok, we can do them a litte later on? When Dean is slightly less of a spazz about the whole thing?)
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"I don't know about that," he murmured. "Look, something-- something's wrong with me. I don't even know who you are."
((ooc: Sounds good to me!))
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"No. I mean... I don't even know who I am. I'm being serious. I woke up outside this old house and I somehow made it here. Dude, I don't know who you are or what we are, but right now? I don't care about flirting or whatever."
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Wait, that wasn't important really... well, not as important anyway. "If I come with you, will you please explain what the hell is going on, man?"
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"Okay, I'll trust you, Dean."
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"Uh...no," he laughed. "No we are not cops. We...well we help people. Don't worry about it.". They pulled into the parking lot and Dean started to get nervous, remembering they'd gotten a room with one bed. "You should lay down or something...or maybe go to the hospital? Maybe you got hit in the head. That's how it works on sitcoms."
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"I don't think I hit it... my head feels fine," he murmured, going to slip out of the car... though he didn't know where their room was. "I don't want to go to the hospital. What do I even tell them?"
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