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crossing_lostrpNight 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?"
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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[Mayday] Fruits and nuts (open)
Date: 2006-08-13 05:00 pm (UTC)After stretching and grabbing a banana and some water - and hopping up into the trees to check for anything new on the horizon - May dropped down again in time to hear Jon and Faith arguing about normalcy.
She actually didn't think Jon was normal at all, but held her tongue about that. He probably had good reasons to insist that he was an ordinary guy, and she understood that enough to respect it.
What did catch her attention was Faith's comment about "the noobs" - namely herself, Dean and Sam. It brought to mind something she'd been stewing over the previous day, but had forgotten about it in the wake of the Doctor's injury. "Speaking of 'the noobs,'" she interrupted, "I thought of something. If we actually find the ladies first, and we have to split up, maybe Dean and Sam should go with some of you and I should go with another group of people they'll recognize."
"Hey, nobody's said anything about splitting up," Jon said, seeming grateful for the change of topic.
"Doesn't mean we won't have to," May said. "The whole trust argument the other day got me thinking. Say Dean or Sam or I get split off from the group and stumble on one of them first by dumb luck? I don't think they'd believe we were there to help. I know I wouldn't."
[Jon] Fruits and nuts
Date: 2006-08-13 08:16 pm (UTC)"Time to go!" the Doctor called out, far more cheerily than anyone with a recent shoulder injury should. "That horizon's got a cup of tea with my name on it." He frowned slightly. "I hope it's PG Tips. Hmm. Come on!"
Jon choked on his last piece of papaya, but scrambled up all the same. Tea? Crazy time-traveling aliens liked tea? What next, cricket?
He took a spot behind a thoughtful Molly and eyed her bow, grinning. The temptation to nickname her Legolas was greater than ever, but he didn't rate his chances of survival too highly.