[Scott] Day 18 (night): Psychics Anonymous (tag Sam, open)

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Night fell on the impromptu and nearly silent camp. Most everyone in the overland group sat or lie near the campfire, exhausted from the long march. The exceptions were Dean and Molly, who'd taken first watch, and Sam, who sat at the edge of the firelight whittling a piece of wood.

Now that the Doctor was deep into his healing trance, Scott was more than ready to turn in for the night. There was one last thing to do before he could. He strode over to Sam. "Hey," he said quietly, prompting the gangly kid to look up. "Do you still want to talk?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, if you're up to it."

Scott smiled mirthlessly as he sank to the ground a short distance away. "I look that bad, huh?" Sam shrugged, and Scott chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes." He nodded at Sam's geometric carving. "That's pretty cool. What is it?"

Sam frowned at the half-carved wood for a moment before answering. "The Key of Solomon." Scott shook his head, puzzled. "A protective symbol."

"Protection from... demons?" Sam nodded solemnly. Scott studied the straight lines crisscrossing the circle Sam had carved. "I didn't think demons existed before coming here," Scott added quietly.

Sam deepened one of the lines with the tip of his knife. "Demons, and lots of other things."

"Great," Scott muttered, thinking of what Mara had been through. (If Sam and Dean hunt these things like they claim, at least someone's fighting back.) The thought was somewhat heartening. "You said you're psychic," Scott stated, keeping his voice down. "Is that why you and your brother hunt demons?"

Sam barked a laugh, of all things. "No. Well, sort of." Scott raised an eyebrow skeptically. "It's a long story," Sam said with a sigh. He continued in a near whisper. "Something's happening to me. Started earlier this year. I have dreams... nightmares... that come true. I never know what I'm going to see when I close my eyes. I try to sleep for only an hour or two at a time to avoid them, but I can't. Now I dream when I'm awake. Premonitions, visions, I guess. Complete with skull-splitting headaches. They'll get Dean and me killed if it keeps up like this." The young man looked positively miserable.

Scott opened his shields a bit to push reassurance to the kid. Sam sat a little straighter. "You're sure it's something psychic?" Sam frowned defensively. "You and your brother mentioned magic before, and again, since coming here, I know that magic exists, too."

"It's a psychic thing. Missouri and the damned demon said so."

Scott blinked, puzzled. "Missouri?"

Sam nodded. "She's a psychic. Helped my family." The young man was quiet for a few moments. Fear pushed aside some of his bitterness and resignation. "Max was psychic, too. Like me, 'cept better at telekinesis."

"You're precognitive and telekinetic?"

Sam's mirthless half-smile returned. "I guess. I've only done it -- moved stuff -- once. Didn't know what I was doing. I had to get to Dean before Max killed him."

Scott stared at Sam, horrified. "Max *was* psychic? He died?"

Sam nodded. "He was psychotic. Not sure if it was from abuse or being psychic." He finally looked up from the carving and met Scott's eyes. "You're psychic and sane. Am I gonna lose it?"

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[Dean] Taking a turn (open)

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Dean was getting doggone tired. It was Blaise's turn at the watch. Dean walked over to the main group and passed May and Sam talking quietly. "What are you two lovebirds talking about?" Dean asked with a grin, half-curious, fully-exhausted. He made it over to Blaise and went down on his haunches. "Blaise, yo, time to wake up. It's your watch."

[Blaise] Taking a turn (open)

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Blaise woke to Dean crouching beside him announcing his turn on watch.

"Of course it is," Blaise muttered. He sat up, then got to his feet and stretched. "All quiet, I take it?" he asked.

"Yep," Dean said. "It was the best kind of watch--boring."

"I hear that," Blaise said. He leaned over to pick up his pack and the P90. He gave the weapon a quick once over to verify that it was clean and functional, then nodded to Dean. "I have the duty," he said. "You're relieved."

Dean grinned at the formal statement. "I sure am."

Blaise dug into his pack and pulled out a banana. He ate it as he walked around the perimeter. He hadn't bothered to eat earlier, he'd just picked out a nice spot to sleep and sacked out for a couple of hours before his turn on watch. Why eat when he could sleep? He could eat when he had to be awake anyhow.

It was a quiet watch. Blaise paused for a minute during each circuit of the camp to marvel at Molly's approach to sleeping in a tree. It looked painful to him, but she seemed comfortable enough. Eventually it was time to turn over the watch to the next guard.

Blaise nudged his successor awake. "You're up."

[Faith] Taking a Turn (open)

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Waking easily was not a problem for Faith. Going to sleep had been, but she'd taken one of the later watches with the knowledge that she could ride the wakefulness into morning and the hike beyond.

She grinned wickedly - and teasingly - at Blaise. "Damn. I could get used to being woken up by a stud with a gun. Too bad you've got that marriage thing going on." Giving him a wink, she sprang easily to her feet.

"You don't need a weapon?" Blaise asked. She knew that he wasn't offering her that wicked ass gun, just inquiring.

"If it comes to needing a weapon, we're already in trouble," Faith told him. "Besides, I do better hand-to-hand and up close and personal, ya know?"

"I'll bet you do," Blaise smirked.

Faith wandered the perimeter of the camp, noting Molly sleeping in the tree, and the rest of the camp in various positions and at various locations. Scott had finally fallen asleep by the Doctor, and though he volunteered to keep watch after her, Faith seriously debated waking him. It was real easy to see that Scott was exhausted.

(Being worried sick about his honey probably doesn't help matters any.)

Doc and Scott needed the most sleep, so Faith let the latter have it, assuming that she couldn't wake the former anyway. She watched longer than she should have; her stamina and alertness wouldn't be hindered by doing such, no matter how far they had to walk tomorrow morning.

Finally, she went to turn over the guard. "Wakey, wakey. Time to watch our asses and scream really loud if the bad guys come."

[OOC: I didn't know who was left to take a turn, so y'all can play it like you want. If there's someone who hasn't watched yet, then Faith will skip Scott and wake whomever was supposed to watch after him. Probably will annoy Scott, but ... it's Faith .]

[Sam] Taking a Turn (tag Faith [optional], open)

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The sharp smell of antiseptic hung thickly in the white-walled passage. Sam, May, and Dean had closed the door to the small examination room with the comatose bodies and all of the blood behind them. One of the bodies was that of a dark-skinned young woman who, if she hadn't looked like hell, would have been pretty. Based on the descriptions of the kidnapped women, the young woman was most likely Ami. The same Ami that Scott insisted was in the other direction.

"This is a whole new kind of creepy," Dean muttered softly.

The three crept down the hall, stopping before they reached the corner it turned to the left. Holding his .45 ready, Sam peeked around the corner.

The gorgeous -- if blood-encrusted -- blonde who slapped one hand on his chest was the last thing he'd expected.

Sam's cry caught in his throat. Then he couldn't feel his throat, or anything else for that matter. The woman's blue eyes locked with his. "Wakey, wakey. Time to watch our asses and scream really loud if the bad guys come."

Darkness fell abruptly as a hand clamped over his mouth. Another pinned his shoulder to the ground. "Yo, Sammy, chill. It's Faith. You're only s'posed to scream if the bad guys find us. Or if we're takin' a tumble." She leered the last.

Sam recognized Faith and the surrounding night-dark jungle. He was gasping, and his head hurt again. He nodded in acknowledgement of Faith's words. She eyed him skeptically. "You alright for watch?"

Sam sat up, rubbing his temples. "Yeah. Gimme a minute. Nightmare." (Or another goddamned vision,) he added silently.

By the time he'd gulped down a bottle of water and armed himself, Sam's headache had faded to a dull ache. He nodded at Faith. "Okay. Get some rest." He paced to the perimeter, resolving to tell Dean about the possible premonition in the morning.