[ Anyone who knows Sam Winchester will not be surprised to see him... well, where he is, and doing what he's doing. The scruffy brunette is hunching over a table, pen in his fingers, phone clutched a lifeline in his other hand. This is nothing new, he thinks. It's just another hunt. Another freakin' kidnapping. Sam leans back with a short exhale, running his tongue over dry lips. Yeah, this was more or less the norm. He's honestly more upset that he hadn't gotten a good look at whatever creature had bagged him than that they zapped him away in the first place. As far as he's concerned, the abduction could really be something else in disguise; a poisoning, maybe. A fever dream. Something worse or better or in between.
Is it easier to think he's imagining all this as a result of a real attack, or that this transportation to the--what is it, Grimm fairytale world?--is the reality? Hard to say when your life is such a variable mix of the two. Sam glances at the cell in his hand--useless--and then back at the notes he's compiling. There isn't a lot to discern when in a situation as confusing as this, but he has hunter's experience. He jots down little things about what he remembers of his capture and captives, of his current surroundings, of the people he meets.
sam winchester ; supernatural ; 2
Is it easier to think he's imagining all this as a result of a real attack, or that this transportation to the--what is it, Grimm fairytale world?--is the reality? Hard to say when your life is such a variable mix of the two. Sam glances at the cell in his hand--useless--and then back at the notes he's compiling. There isn't a lot to discern when in a situation as confusing as this, but he has hunter's experience. He jots down little things about what he remembers of his capture and captives, of his current surroundings, of the people he meets.
It's a start, at least. ]