Oᴜᴛ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀɴғɪᴇʟᴅs ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴏᴅs ɢᴏᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ

[righteously]

Who: Dean & Sam Winchester.
When: Early December.
Where: Cadens; Winchester-Harvelle House → The Horizon.
What: An exercise in guided meditation.
Warnings: probably nonsense.

Oᴜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ sᴇᴀᴛ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ's '67 Cʜᴇᴠʏ

Comments

[righteously]

( It's complicated. He gets that it's complicated. He gets that Sam isn't okay, and that he doesn't want to talk about it, and that he wants to convince Dean that he's totally fine even though they both know he's full of an entire mountain of crap. He also knows it's going to come out eventually, and all he can really do about it is gently-not-gently tug on that thread hoping to unravel it before it unravels itself.

Like it always does.
Like this.

The flash of something like terror; the sound of Sam's voice crying out sharply before it cuts off, and they're both gone — gone, together. Somewhere else. Standing in front of a very familiar sight; he's built these funeral pyres with his own two hands on more than one occasion, but deep down, he knows he didn't build this one.

He'd recognize the shape of every body he's ever hefted onto one, and that one isn't-

That one isn't.

But Sam's calm now, and Dean can only take that to mean the memories are vacant, missing. He stands shoulder to shoulder with the guy, draped in a similar flannel, except his symbol is stitched over the breast pocket like a brand logo. )

Oh, we are so talking about this later. ( Muses the stranger at Sam's side, mostly to himself, shaking his head absently — right up until the house beyond catches his attention, and he stops, brow furrowing in surprise. ) Wait, is that Jody's place?

( A thoughtful beat, and then a curious: )

Huh. Well, could be worse.

( At least it's not freakin Flagstaff. )

[kalesalad]

( He's not alone, apparently. Which, isn't any more calming than this is. But, this shouldn't be, right? It's objectively violent, but transfixing. Finally, the stranger gets his attention and breaks his gaze. )

Who's we?

( He notices they're dressed similarly. )

Who's Jody?

( He doesn't know what could, or couldn't be, worse, so he just, shrugs. )

I'll take your word for it. But, dude, you're giving off real Single White Female vibes right now. ( What with their cute, matching - opposite color, at least, flannel. ) This feels... anti-environment. I half expect Smoky the Bear to jump out and tell us only we can save each other from forest fires. Or, maybe just, shake his head. He'd be disappointed.

( He's done with the fire, though. This guy mentioned a name, which propels him around the fire leaving the stranger behind. )

Jody? Did she start this fire?

[righteously]

( He opens his mouth; single white female vibes. His mouth snaps closed again immediately, and he levels Sam with a deeply unimpressed bitch I will stone cold stun you glare. Anti-environment. Smoky the bear. You gotta be kidding him, who decides what people do and don't remember in this stupid first Matrixing anyhow? How is it people can forget their own family, but Al Gore's stance on global warming is totally fair game?

Sam's right, though. Smoky would totally give the disappointed dad head shake. He chooses not to think about that, it hurts on a fundamental level.

And besides: he's been tee'd up for a stupid joke. )

She didn't start the fire. It was always burning- ( A stupid grin cracks up the side of his mouth; you get it? It falters after a beat of no recognition, so he tries another line: ) Harry Truman, Doris Day, Red China, Johnnie Ray...?

( Billy Joel? Did you get to keep Billy Joel at least, Sam?? )

[kalesalad]

( Sam's flannel twin follows close behind. )

Why are you quoting We Didn't Start the - ( he stops on the second step, the reason dawning. ) Got it. Thank you for the trip through the sixties, Flannel Guy, but I've never really been a Billy Joel fan.

( he prefers his bands alternative, emo, and rock. he grabs the door handle, opening it, because he knows inherently it will open, and turns to his - is this guy a friend? )

You couldn't make a Great Big Balls of Fire joke or Fire on the Water? I think there were lower hanging fruit there.

( not to mention, literally just the song "Fire," and on cue, the stereo sytem inside cues up "Fire" by Bruce Springsteen.

Sam stands in the living room, gesturing. )

See, the ghost stereo gets it.