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Set a course for winds of fortune.
Jan. 2nd, 2012 09:34 pmDean watched Sam emerge from the bathroom after his shower. Definitely not the scrawny kid he'd been last time Dean saw him. What were they feeding him at Stanford? Jesus. He shook his head a little.
While Sam was showering, he'd looked through Dad's journal again and read the articles Sam pulled up on the laptop. He nodded at the question. "Looks like Dad's sort of thing. Figure if I drive all night, we can be in Colorado in another two days, tops. Maybe less."
Not ideal, but it was the best he could do. Unless... "Unless you wanna break into a morgue somewhere and grab us a body bag. Guess I could ride out the day in the trunk while you're driving..."
Jesus, fuck, he didn't want to do that. He would, but it kind of felt like a nifty game of Russian roulette.
((Continued from here.))
While Sam was showering, he'd looked through Dad's journal again and read the articles Sam pulled up on the laptop. He nodded at the question. "Looks like Dad's sort of thing. Figure if I drive all night, we can be in Colorado in another two days, tops. Maybe less."
Not ideal, but it was the best he could do. Unless... "Unless you wanna break into a morgue somewhere and grab us a body bag. Guess I could ride out the day in the trunk while you're driving..."
Jesus, fuck, he didn't want to do that. He would, but it kind of felt like a nifty game of Russian roulette.
((Continued from here.))