Silent Lucidity

LXXIII

[Inside Man]

Sam, Castiel and Kennedy, holding a sleeping Nadia, were sitting at a table with an older, balding gentleman with glasses. They were holding hands, and the unknown man, a psychic, was chanting. The lights flickered, the table shook, and the candles started shooting flames.

"Amate spiritus obscure, Te quaerimus. Te oramus, nobiscum colloquere, apud no circita," the psychic said.

In a living room with a recliner, many full bookshelves, and a radio playing The Gambler by Kenny Rogers, sat Bobby who took a sip of his drink.

"Bobby?" Sam voice came through, staticy on the radio, cutting Kenny Rogers in and out. "Bobby, can you hear me? Bobby, we need your help."

"Please, Uncle Bobby," Kennedy begged.

Bobby frowned. "Sam? Kennedy?"

BUNKER - SAM'S BEDROOM

Sam was awoken by Dean screaming for him.

"Sam!"

Sam ran barefoot through the hallway. Dean was having a nightmare. Kennedy was trying to console him.

"No. No! No! No. No!"

Sam noticed Dean was clenching his right fist, the arm that bared the Mark.

DEAN'S HEAD - MARK INDUCED NIGHTMARE

Dean saw himself killing Lester, torturing Metatron, killing Abaddon, and revisited his fight with Cain.

"Aah!" Metatron cried.

Cain's words echoed through Dean's head in his dream. "My story began when I killed my brother, and that's where your story will inevitably end. Your wife and daughter will meet a tragic fate as well."

Dean woke up and saw Sam across the room from him, looking worried. He saw Kennedy looking at him worriedly.

---

Sam sat at the library table on the phone, laptop open when Dean and Kennedy entered, the latter with Nadia, drinking coffee.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay, just, um... just be there. Yeah. Gotta go." He hung up his phone and addressed Dean. "Hey. How did you sleep?"

"Like a drunk baby," Dean replied. "What do we got?"

"A fat load of nothing."

"Really?"

"There's no weird deaths, no demon signs. There's a Kitsune working some truck stops outside of Boise, but Rudy's on it, so..."

"All right. So, uh, snow day. I say we get drunk and shoot crap."

"Yeah, except we do that every day. Actually, I was thinking about seeing a movie."

"Yeah, that could be cool."

"It's a French movie."

"You mean like nudie French?"

"Even better. It's about a mime that's secretly a cockroach."

"I-I don't get it. Kendy seems confused as well."

"Dude, The New York Times said-"

"Who cares?"

"All right, well... It's playing in Wichita, so I might not be back till morning."

"Well, I trust you. Make good choices."

"Right. You know, I mean... we could make this a group thing..."

"It's fine. Besides, I could use a little "me" time."