I'll Tell You My Sins so You Can Sharpen Your Knife
That's why I love roadtrips, dude. It's like doing something without actually doing anything
Sarah packed a backpack with a few changes of clothes, toiletries, holy water, two silver daggers, and a hand gun. She grabbed the encyclopedia she was working on, seeing as she couldn't bring her entire library, a riffle, and got in the car.
"I thought you weren't hunting." Dean observed.
"This is self protection." She replied, then put on her best southern twang. "It's mah god given right to carry a gun."
Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out of the driveway. Sarah pulled out a sharpie and began drawing charms on her wrist.
"When you're done doodling, can you call the Madison, Connecticut police department? "
"I'm not doodling. These are protection sigils."
"Why don't you just tattoo them on?"
"Because I'm always hoping for the day I won't need them." She mocked. "Asshole, I don't have the time."
"You do nothing but read!"
"You don't know what I do!"
Dean rolled his eyes and turned up the music. This was already off to a great start.
Sarah called the police, asking about the obituary clipping Dean had handed her. She then started quietly humming as she watched the scenery pass. The humming soon turned into soft singing.
"Hold the phone, hit repeat, you got me foaming at the knees.
Swallow doubt, tasted sin, you burned me once again."
"Can you stop?" Dean asked.
But she just got louder. "Cut the cord, she's a creep...MY FRIEND DEAN!"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Putting my name in the song won't make it better."
"Will it make you change the music? This tape has played twice."
"I'm driving, I choose the music."
"in what universe?"
"This one."
"Fine. I'll keep that in mind for when I drive."
Dean forced a laugh. "You will not be driving this car."
Sarah rolled her eyes and looked back out the window. "Why don't you just turn around and take me home. Road trips are supposed to be fun."
"Don't tempt me. This isn't a road trip. It's a job."
"only thing you're getting from this is heaven points, not money. How is that a job?"
"Sarah, I will have Castiel take you home."
She sighed. "Fine. No more forced existential crises for Dean."
"Thanks."
Luckily, the drive between New Jersey and Connecticut was a short one, and neither seriously lost their temper. Dean could just imagine the smirk on Sam's face if he were here. He'd probably goad her along.
It was late by the time they found a motel - too late for any proper investigation. Dean dug up some cash while Sarah dumped their things in room number 17, two beds and a kitchenette, ground level. Slightly skeezed out, Sarah pulled the comforter off the bed furthest from the closet. Housekeeping would never wash the comforter, and waking up on the same side of the bed as the closet was bad luck.
Sarah met Dean outside the room. "The bar next door is advertising burgers." She said. "My treat."
He shrugged and they walked across the parking lot. The bar was large, poorly lit, and grimy. The crowd looked rough.
"Stay close to me." Dean said. "This place could rip you to pieces."
But when he looked next to him she was gone. Looking around, he located her down the bar, laughing with some old Irish men. She smiled and held up two beers.
"I ordered you a burger." She told him. "I'm gonna play some pool."
"Look out, sweetheart. " one of the old men said. "They'll hustle you."
She gave him the ghost of a smile. "I sincerely doubt that."
Sarah moved over to the pool table and Dean sat down with the old men. Now that Sarah had charmed them, getting them to talk about the odd deaths in town was simple.
"Must be something in the water." One said, shaking his head.
"Only one happened in the water. The other two were on dry land."
"It's a figure of speech."
"I'm sorry." Dean said. "I thought it was just the drowning and the strangulation in the park."
"You missed it, boy. Yesterday, Mabel Scott in her own backyard."
The man who had warned Sarah about the pool players started laughing. "Son, that's a hell of a girl you got there. She's sand bagging them!"
"She's not my girl." Dean said.
When he turned around, Sarah was smiling and pocketing her winnings. "Alright." She said. "Who's next?"
Dean frowned. Sarah was a real whole person. Not some lost little girl under the protection of an angel. Not some research robot. She had fun and did things and was good at things. She laughed.
What had stopped all that?
"I thought you weren't hunting." Dean observed.
"This is self protection." She replied, then put on her best southern twang. "It's mah god given right to carry a gun."
Dean rolled his eyes and pulled out of the driveway. Sarah pulled out a sharpie and began drawing charms on her wrist.
"When you're done doodling, can you call the Madison, Connecticut police department? "
"I'm not doodling. These are protection sigils."
"Why don't you just tattoo them on?"
"Because I'm always hoping for the day I won't need them." She mocked. "Asshole, I don't have the time."
"You do nothing but read!"
"You don't know what I do!"
Dean rolled his eyes and turned up the music. This was already off to a great start.
Sarah called the police, asking about the obituary clipping Dean had handed her. She then started quietly humming as she watched the scenery pass. The humming soon turned into soft singing.
"Hold the phone, hit repeat, you got me foaming at the knees.
Swallow doubt, tasted sin, you burned me once again."
"Can you stop?" Dean asked.
But she just got louder. "Cut the cord, she's a creep...MY FRIEND DEAN!"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Putting my name in the song won't make it better."
"Will it make you change the music? This tape has played twice."
"I'm driving, I choose the music."
"in what universe?"
"This one."
"Fine. I'll keep that in mind for when I drive."
Dean forced a laugh. "You will not be driving this car."
Sarah rolled her eyes and looked back out the window. "Why don't you just turn around and take me home. Road trips are supposed to be fun."
"Don't tempt me. This isn't a road trip. It's a job."
"only thing you're getting from this is heaven points, not money. How is that a job?"
"Sarah, I will have Castiel take you home."
She sighed. "Fine. No more forced existential crises for Dean."
"Thanks."
Luckily, the drive between New Jersey and Connecticut was a short one, and neither seriously lost their temper. Dean could just imagine the smirk on Sam's face if he were here. He'd probably goad her along.
It was late by the time they found a motel - too late for any proper investigation. Dean dug up some cash while Sarah dumped their things in room number 17, two beds and a kitchenette, ground level. Slightly skeezed out, Sarah pulled the comforter off the bed furthest from the closet. Housekeeping would never wash the comforter, and waking up on the same side of the bed as the closet was bad luck.
Sarah met Dean outside the room. "The bar next door is advertising burgers." She said. "My treat."
He shrugged and they walked across the parking lot. The bar was large, poorly lit, and grimy. The crowd looked rough.
"Stay close to me." Dean said. "This place could rip you to pieces."
But when he looked next to him she was gone. Looking around, he located her down the bar, laughing with some old Irish men. She smiled and held up two beers.
"I ordered you a burger." She told him. "I'm gonna play some pool."
"Look out, sweetheart. " one of the old men said. "They'll hustle you."
She gave him the ghost of a smile. "I sincerely doubt that."
Sarah moved over to the pool table and Dean sat down with the old men. Now that Sarah had charmed them, getting them to talk about the odd deaths in town was simple.
"Must be something in the water." One said, shaking his head.
"Only one happened in the water. The other two were on dry land."
"It's a figure of speech."
"I'm sorry." Dean said. "I thought it was just the drowning and the strangulation in the park."
"You missed it, boy. Yesterday, Mabel Scott in her own backyard."
The man who had warned Sarah about the pool players started laughing. "Son, that's a hell of a girl you got there. She's sand bagging them!"
"She's not my girl." Dean said.
When he turned around, Sarah was smiling and pocketing her winnings. "Alright." She said. "Who's next?"
Dean frowned. Sarah was a real whole person. Not some lost little girl under the protection of an angel. Not some research robot. She had fun and did things and was good at things. She laughed.
What had stopped all that?