Sid-er-eus ~ Latin
Heavenly; Starry; Star-like
Stars are holes in the universe; the light of heaven coming from the other side.
Book Two in the Solivagant Series.
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"I mean...I take back that slight on LARPing. Shit seems pretty awesome - but the rest is absolutely atrocious."
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Tucking my hands into my jacket's pockets, I narrow my gaze down the street. A whole row of Impala's neatly lined in a row. Kicking up dirt with my boots I take a quick peak passing them by. I easily note Dean's by the plate he's tacked on. However, the others certainly come close. Remarkably close. I never knew the Impala was such a famous model. Is there a comeback I don't know about? Like punch buggies and four-wheel drives?
Scratching an itch on my bare leg, I notice Chuck pacing on the porch of the old hotel. Hand dragging through his already messy hair he spears more anxious them usual. "Chuck!" I call out. His wide frantic eyes snapping upwards I approach the porch, hands out confused "What's going on buddy?"
"Eleanor?" He breathed seemingly concerned "Oh no."
"Oh no?" I'm taken aback "I thought we had a cool relationship."
"No-yes we do!" Chuck quickly steps in my way when I move to step onto the porch. Tilting my head curiously, Chuck clears his throat. With a nervous glance behind him, Chuck warns "You really don't wanna go in there. Sam and Dean shouldn't have gone in there-"
"Chuck you're freaking me", I begin to panic a little at the small anxious man. Gently placing my hand on his shoulder, I pry "What's going on?"
He must've realised I wasn't going anywhere. He takes another anxious glance around before sighing and stepping aside. Chuck leans over the porch banister like he's going to be sick. Hesitating for a moment I wander towards the doors, hand gently resting on my back to where I've concealed my gun. Pushing the heavy wooden doors inwards I'm hit by the warm hotel's comforting air at the same time my jaw drops.
"Whoa", the word falls from my lips. My boots literally glued me to place. It's like I've just wandered into an episode of my life. All around you have tables of merchandise- the impala, symbols of pagan lore, journals, black and yellow eyes- all printed on shirts, jumpers, mugs, keychains. I flinch back when a clown passes me by with a scarecrow. Both holding beers in hand laughing. Yet my gaze following them I breathe a comforted sigh. Dean. Marching up, my hand slides up the back of his duster "Oh thank god I found you Dean- Ah!" Immediately my hand retracts when he turns around. It's not Dean- certainly not Dean. Stepping away from the stranger dressed freakishly like Dean I ignore the smile stretching over his lips and I suddenly focus on the room. Sam's, Dean's, Bobby's-me! The Dean I had reached for rests his hand on my shoulder and I shrug it off, "No."
