Sam Winchester accepted his styrofoam cup of coffee with a half-hearted pluck from his brother. He set it down beside the humming vent of his laptop, untouched.
“What? Not even a ‘thanks’?” Dean asked between sips of his own drink.
“Oh, thanks,” Sam muttered in response, but his eyes didn’t lift from the screen. They flickered through text, absorbed with the kind of unbreakable concentration Dean never understood.
“Got something?” Dean asked, his interest piqued. He rested his cup on Sam’s shoulder, and his free hand gripped around the back of his brother’s chair.
“I think so,” Sam answered as he shrugged his brother off. “How’s a ghost hunt sound to you?”
“Better than another day of cable tv and internet porn.”
Dean smiled and took another gulp of his coffee.
“I can’t get much of a concrete source on this, but,” Sam slipped a hand around the backside of his computer and snatched a newspaper folded against its creases, “a whole town disappeared off the grid yesterday. No phones, no internet, no power as far as I can tell, and they’re saying no one could get in or out.”
Dean snorted quietly and leaned around Sam. “And you think we can get them back?”
“No, they came back on their own, sometime around 10 or 11 last night, but supposedly they’re blaming the whole uh—inter-dimensional travel they called it—on ghosts.”
Dean scrunched his eyebrows together, lips parted in doubt. “You ever heard of a ghost that could zap an entire city off the planet?”
“That’s why they’re saying ghosts, plural, and that’s not all.” Sam shifted his attention back to the computer screen; Dean’s eyes followed. “Apparently this town has been under ghost siege for two years, at least.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed as he did the math. "And we’ve never heard of them?”
Sam laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, well they claim they’ve got their own personal ‘ghost hero’ who cleans these things up before they get out of hand. Town’s small and pretty remote, so that doesn’t help news travel.”
Dean smirked at the image in his mind. “What they’ve got…vigilante Batghost looking after them?”
Painting a galactic themed christmas card for a special friend of mine! I love painting the galaxy as there is no right or wrong and the possibilities are limitless! Unlike the difficult and confusing human anatomy 😂
The little girl is inspired by Ami-chan from Kamisama Hajimemashita 🌸
Wouldn’t it be great if at difficult times in our lives, we were able to turn to younger versions of ourselves and ask them for help? For example, you’re frightened by something because you’ve learned from past experience that you have good reason to be scared. So you ask your 27 year old self to take your place now. Because at 27, you were afraid of very little in life (for better or worse). 27 year old you had a sureness and confidence that for many reasons you lost along the way to today.
Or you meet someone wonderful, but in the past you were hurt so many times in love that you’re wary and cynical now about becoming involved. But 19 year old you wasn’t. They believed fully in the magic and infinite possibilities of new love in a way you haven’t for years.
If we have lived a long enough time we’ve been many people, both strong and weak. Somewhere in our souls those people must still exist. Some of them were optimistic, bulletproof, trusting; sure of what they were doing, courageous and sincerely believed life’s possibilities were limitless. Scared, confused, depressed, wary, apathetic— whatever frame of mind you are in now, there were times in your life when you were just the opposite.
How great it would be if we could turn to those other versions of our-self and say ‘You can handle this moment better than me. Please take the wheel now and drive this bumpy part of our road.’
They say it is most dangerous to fall in love because you lose your sense of priority.
And so the boy boarded a bus he should never have boarded to head to a place he should have no reason to head to. He understood his life would spiral downward after the woman recognized him. But there would be a moment in between the opening of the door and the sign of recognition. A moment of surprise and confusion and limitless possibility. He was willing to ruin the rest of his life to create that moment.