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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"If we can save someone we should. You taught me that. Not Dad- not Dean. You El."
"Oh that is not fair."
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Ecclesiastes 7:9 Be not quick in your spirit to become angry for anger lodges in the heart of fools.
Suppose fools can easily be translated to Winchester.
Don't get me wrong... after another apology from Sam to Dean we got back on the road. Dean shared with us stories about their Mom and John- even his grandparents who he got the chance to meet traveling back in time. All unfortunately murdered by Yellow Eyes but at least Dean got the chance to know them. Even for a minute. I never got the same chance to know mine. Bobby's the only parent I've truly known but it isn't to say I'd refuse to take the chance to meet them if it was given to me. However, then Sam let slip about knowing Yellow Eyes gave him his abilities by dripping Demon blood into his mouth like a newborn. I've caught up with both boys for close to two years now and apparently I'm only just learning that it wasn't common knowledge. Walls of fury were put back up by Dean and mountains of frustration grew further within Sam. Plunged back into silence I'd slyly slipped back in my headphones as if I'd never been apart of that conversation to begin with.
"Sam the man is probably just hungry after a long day in the office. I mean the guy is violently hovering down his steak and potato's like Dean after he misses lunch- no offense."
"None took."
"Travis said to look out for anything weird" Sam reminds me, sparing me an accusing look over the back of the Impala "Considering he's the only Jack Montgomery in town I don't think we've got the wrong guy."
Before I can retort Dean mumbles uneasily "Uh... do we consider that weird?"
Raising my binoculars I return my gaze curiously back to the white picket house. Gazing back through the dining room window I furrow my eyebrows when I notice Jack gone. Instead, he's in the kitchen hounding into something red. Raw. I feel my lips part surprised when I recognize what he's inhaling from the fridge is mince. Raw, uncooked, handfuls of ground mince. He rushes through the mince in a way that I can only describe as feral. Grasping a chunk in his hands I watch some fall away as he tries to stuff as much of the raw mince into his mouth as he can manage.
