Meanwhile, back in the crop circle, the bright light reappears and Dean is…dropped off looking Totally Freaked Out. He’s screaming (a nice, rough, throaty scream) and firing his gun repeatedly. It’s obvious he’s been fighting someone or something. He quiets when he realizes he’s not in Oz anymore and manages to make his way back to the motel room. Stumbling inside, he turns on the lights and gapes at…
…Sam en flagrante delicto with Hippie Chick.
Dean’s like W.T.H. Hippie Chic is perkily happy that Dean’s been returned. She gets dressed and grins at Sam saying she totally understood that they needed family time, but has to ask Dean what it was like.
Dean: They were grabby, incandescent douche bags. Goodbye.
He closes the door after her and leans on it, face-forward, his back to Sam. Sam has pulled on a black T-shirt and jeans and is standing in the middle of the room looking like he knows he’s in trouble but he’s not really sure why.
Sam: You’re upset.
Dean turns on him, totally incredulous. Apparently he’s having just as much trouble as I am trying to both figure out how Soulless Guy’s head works and remember that he can’t hold his brother to the same standards as he holds himself—or even as he did before. He’s realizing that he can’t expect Soulless Sam to think about ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ the same way he used to or the same way Dean would…and that’s both scary and frustrating as hell.
It’s one thing to demand that another person conform to your way of life or moral code. My family does that; expects everyone to live inside the box of parameters that they deem correct and if they don’t, well those people are obviously bad and wrong. It’s irritating, but I won’t die if they think me bad and wrong.
But it’s a whole different ball game when you’re dealing with someone who has no moral code at all and yet is still interacting with the general public, affecting lives. Especially when that person used to have an even stricter version of right and wrong than Dean does. *head spins*
Dean: I was abducted and you’re banging Patchouli.
Sam: I didn’t think she smelled that bad.
Sam says he was working the case and Dean’s like how—I was gone for an hour! Turns out he was gone all night (it’s 4am) and Sam’s all, oh! UFO time slip! Apparently, Sam read the pamphlet. He goes to get the paperwork and Dean makes a sassy-face and mimics Sam’s words in a totally five-year-old reaction to being Totally Freaked Out moments ago and feeling like he’s not being taken seriously.
He goes to sit down and pauses mid-crouch when he realizes he was about to sit on The Bed Of Sex. He moves over and sits on the other bed. Sam, bless him, brings Dean a shot of whiskey, waits while he downs it, then pours him another before sitting on the other bed and asking him to talk.
*almost wants to ruffle his hair as in days of yore* He’s trying. I’ll give him that.
Dean starts out, choking on the words, “There was a bright white light…”
Sam puts a hand on Dean’s knee. “It’s okay. Safe room.”
Dean looks at Sam’s hand and Sam pulls it away. Hey, Dean asked for him to fake it and fake it he most definitely is. Dean says there were beings that were too bright to look at and they were pulling him toward a table….
Sam: Probing table?
Dean: God! Don’t say that out loud!
Dean: I went crazy…started hacking, slashing, firing. They…they seemed surprised. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before. (He stands up and starts to pace a bit randomly.) I had a close encounter, Sam…and I won.
Sam: You should go take a shower.
Dean: I should go take a shower. I am. I’m gonna…take a shower.
Hee. Too bad we can’t get shower scenes in the episodes. *writes missing scene in head*
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