Sharon waved good-bye to D and Samantha when they dropped her off at her house. Samantha was very quiet. D asked Sharon, “You all right?”
“Yeah,” Sharon said. “I mean, I’m gonna need time to embrulho, envoltório my head around all this, but I’m okay.” She sighed heavily. “You know, I actually feel kinda sorry for her.”
D and Samantha both looked at her in disbelief.
“I mean, she had such a hard life, and she was so alone.”
“She killed your family,” Samantha reminded her.
“Yeah, I know, but…” Sharon sighed again. “Maybe I’m just too soft-hearted, but all she wanted was family to be there for her and understand her.” She shrugged and went up to the house.
--------------------------------------------------
“I think Sharon’s a bit of a whack-job herself,” D said when they got back to the hotel room. After the long, incredible job they’d just finished, they decided to spend the night before heading out in the morning in procurar of a new bloodthirsty monster.
Samantha, heavy-hearted, sat on her bed. “Yeah,” she agreed, “but it’s nice to have family, you know?”
D frowned. “Whoah, whoah, whoah, and what am I?”
Samantha looked up at her sadly.
--------------------------------------------------
“And what am I?” asked Dean, offended.
Sam looked up at him, hazel cachorro, filhote de cachorro eyes revealing remorse for what he’d just said. “Dean, you’re my big brother, and I would die for you… But I miss being able to talk to someone that doesn’t look at me with fear in his eyes.”
Dean frowned at him. “When do I do that?”
“You’re doing it right now.”
Dean looked away quickly, knowing he was right.
“You’ve done it for the last five years now,” Sam continued. “Ever since Dad died and told you to watch out for me. And it’s okay, man, I get it. I scare the crap out of you, I know that. Hell, I scare the crap out of me, too. I’m, just saying, it was nice to have someone that knew me and looked at me like a person, not a monster waiting to attack.”
Dean sat down on the cama and let his breath out in a rush. He didn’t want to have this conversation, so he simply decided not to have it. He switched on the TV. The Weather Channel was on, and that Mike Bettes guy was reporting on the end of a severe and unusual storm. Dean turned up the volume:
“Nobody knows what to call it, but the laranja storm with the purple lightning that covered the Midwest vanished completely at eleven o’clock this morning. Although many people claim to have been struck por the unusual purple sheet lightning, no casualties or fatalities have been reported. One woman in Iola, Kansas, says she saw lightning start a small fogo in the cemetery just moments before the storm ended; however, when the fogo department arrived, they found nothing damaged except one grave…”
Dean switched off the TV. “You think maybe sharon’s ghost is what kept the door open?”
Sam nodded thoughtfully. “Could be. Maybe that’s what happens when two worlds interfere with each other. And then after her spirit was destroyed, the door closed.”
Dean shrugged. “I guess it’s just as well. We didn’t belong there. But I’m gonna miss those girls, myself. You know, I never thought about having a sister before, but something about those girls…”
Sam nodded and said softly, wistfully, “I know.” He looked up at Dean, and was surprised to see that Dean’s face was just as full of sorrow and loss as Sam’s coração was.
Dean noticed that Sam was watching him, and he smiled tightly. “But hey, we still got each other, right?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah.”
Dean nodded. “Good. Now, I think we need a day’s rest after all that. You get the cards outta the luva compartment, and I’ll get us set up in here for the night.”
Sam nodded reluctantly and shuffled out of the room. He didn’t like taking Dean’s orders any mais than he ever had, but he felt that he just had to be alone, just for a few minutes.
Dean unpacked his duffel, pulling out the chalk to mark the usual devil’s trap on the floor, and in the bag, he spotted D’s gun, the one she’d given them before they’d left. And the girls had Dean’s gun.
In a strange way, the thought was somewhat comforting, and Dean found himself smiling a little, in spite of himself.
“Yeah,” Sharon said. “I mean, I’m gonna need time to embrulho, envoltório my head around all this, but I’m okay.” She sighed heavily. “You know, I actually feel kinda sorry for her.”
D and Samantha both looked at her in disbelief.
“I mean, she had such a hard life, and she was so alone.”
“She killed your family,” Samantha reminded her.
“Yeah, I know, but…” Sharon sighed again. “Maybe I’m just too soft-hearted, but all she wanted was family to be there for her and understand her.” She shrugged and went up to the house.
--------------------------------------------------
“I think Sharon’s a bit of a whack-job herself,” D said when they got back to the hotel room. After the long, incredible job they’d just finished, they decided to spend the night before heading out in the morning in procurar of a new bloodthirsty monster.
Samantha, heavy-hearted, sat on her bed. “Yeah,” she agreed, “but it’s nice to have family, you know?”
D frowned. “Whoah, whoah, whoah, and what am I?”
Samantha looked up at her sadly.
--------------------------------------------------
“And what am I?” asked Dean, offended.
Sam looked up at him, hazel cachorro, filhote de cachorro eyes revealing remorse for what he’d just said. “Dean, you’re my big brother, and I would die for you… But I miss being able to talk to someone that doesn’t look at me with fear in his eyes.”
Dean frowned at him. “When do I do that?”
“You’re doing it right now.”
Dean looked away quickly, knowing he was right.
“You’ve done it for the last five years now,” Sam continued. “Ever since Dad died and told you to watch out for me. And it’s okay, man, I get it. I scare the crap out of you, I know that. Hell, I scare the crap out of me, too. I’m, just saying, it was nice to have someone that knew me and looked at me like a person, not a monster waiting to attack.”
Dean sat down on the cama and let his breath out in a rush. He didn’t want to have this conversation, so he simply decided not to have it. He switched on the TV. The Weather Channel was on, and that Mike Bettes guy was reporting on the end of a severe and unusual storm. Dean turned up the volume:
“Nobody knows what to call it, but the laranja storm with the purple lightning that covered the Midwest vanished completely at eleven o’clock this morning. Although many people claim to have been struck por the unusual purple sheet lightning, no casualties or fatalities have been reported. One woman in Iola, Kansas, says she saw lightning start a small fogo in the cemetery just moments before the storm ended; however, when the fogo department arrived, they found nothing damaged except one grave…”
Dean switched off the TV. “You think maybe sharon’s ghost is what kept the door open?”
Sam nodded thoughtfully. “Could be. Maybe that’s what happens when two worlds interfere with each other. And then after her spirit was destroyed, the door closed.”
Dean shrugged. “I guess it’s just as well. We didn’t belong there. But I’m gonna miss those girls, myself. You know, I never thought about having a sister before, but something about those girls…”
Sam nodded and said softly, wistfully, “I know.” He looked up at Dean, and was surprised to see that Dean’s face was just as full of sorrow and loss as Sam’s coração was.
Dean noticed that Sam was watching him, and he smiled tightly. “But hey, we still got each other, right?”
Sam nodded. “Yeah.”
Dean nodded. “Good. Now, I think we need a day’s rest after all that. You get the cards outta the luva compartment, and I’ll get us set up in here for the night.”
Sam nodded reluctantly and shuffled out of the room. He didn’t like taking Dean’s orders any mais than he ever had, but he felt that he just had to be alone, just for a few minutes.
Dean unpacked his duffel, pulling out the chalk to mark the usual devil’s trap on the floor, and in the bag, he spotted D’s gun, the one she’d given them before they’d left. And the girls had Dean’s gun.
In a strange way, the thought was somewhat comforting, and Dean found himself smiling a little, in spite of himself.
