A different kind of innocence | Sam and Lilith
--Scene: EXT-- Dusk -- Park & playing fields, Sioux Falls. --A young man sitting on a park bench near the deserted playground, flipping through a notebook. Swings creak lazily in the breeze as street lamps flick on. He pulls his jacket a little tighter against the cold air and continues to read...
He'd just needed some space. A place to try to clear his head and think -- without Bear snuffling around, Dean's constant avoidance of the hound, and his seemingly unending bickering with Meg. This time the argument had been about what to watch on TV -- something mundane -- something 'normal', but between the two of them, both stubborn to a fault, there'd probably be bloodshed by the time he got back. No, he didn't think they'd actually kill each other -- yes, he might have some patching up to do.
It had also gotten to the point where he was almost drowning in notes. Scribbled bits and pieces, random thoughts, things collected from a thousand resources or more -- and none of them made any sense. The whole deal with Purgatory was just boiling Sam's brain to a little over 'well done' and there didn't seem to be any answers anywhere. Or at least, nothing he'd been able to pin down just yet. And with the recent influx of creatures into Sioux Falls, it was a case of holding their heads above water and paddling frantically -- at least until that tide became overwhelming -- and then... Who knew?
So it was a case of work fast, work smart, and try to piece things together as soon as possible -- which would be easier if any of this made even the vaguest hint of sense...
...As far as he knew, the angels weren't linked to purgatory, but that didn't mean they were clueless about it. Something that was -- for all intents -- immortal -- would surely have picked up some kind of knowledge along the way, right? Though Cas had said there was nothing on 'angel-radio' (and as his friend, Sam was inclined to believe him) - so this wasn't a 'celestial' problem, but something for everyone here, with their feet in the dirt. Meaning people... The people he was supposed to be protecting.
Another flip of a page and the old journal he'd been writing in shook loose the last one he'd been reading -- Sam's eyes flicking up as it caught the breeze and sailed away, settling on the dull path that ringed the playground. Not something that was any cause for alarm -- the ramblings of a crazy person or some kind of freaky religious zealot to most... None the less... He pushed up from the bench to go and retrieve the page...
