han_solo | (no subject)

If he were Dean, Sam would take to studying in his car.

Fact is, much as he rubs the Porsche in Dean's face, Sam really isn't all that possessive of it.

Rather than try to make a study space out of the car (impossible), Sam is at a sort of picnic table outside. A few books are stacked at his elbow and he's writing in a small journal easily concealed in his jacket.

Dean hasn't seen the journal before. He gets bored with the car pretty quickly, wandering over quietly to crane over Sam's shoulder.

Sneaky Dean is Sneaky.

Very sneaky. Sam would never notice a tall, broad-shouldered guy leaning over his shoulder and getting in his light like that. Ever.

"Dude," he mutters, frowning and flipping a few pages in a book to reference before writing again. "You're in my light."

"It was my light before it was your light," Dean reminds him, in the time-honoured tradition of big brothers everywhere. "Whatcha doing?"

Sam rolls his eyes, keeping his head down so Dean doesn't see him smirk. "I'm researching the job that was your job before it was mine. Were you planning on helping with this, oh... ever?"

"I'm helping!" Dean protests. "I'm just sick of readin' the same ten books and gettin' zilch. You haven't been studying the damn stuff as long's I have."

The pen pauses, but just for a bit, just enough for the hitch in the writing to be noticed.

Then Sam shakes his head, cites the page number he just quoted, and flips some more pages in the book. "Yeah, well. What'd you come up with?"

"Amazing lack of any fucking thing." Dean is watching him write. "You seem t'be having better luck..."

"That's because I actually read books and analyze the information instead of stare at it, hoping to see the words 'Here's the answer you're looking for, Sam' in the text."

Sam smirks and nods to the seat across from him at the table. "I've got a couple of ideas. I want to talk to this girl, though, what all do you know about her?"

Dean kicks him under the table, amiably, as soon as he's slid into the seat.

"Nice kid. Obnoxious and brash. Reminds me of you. You can probably find her around."

That gets another roll of Sam's eyes, thank you very much. "Yeah, 'cause between the two of us, I'm the one that gets called obnoxious."

He frowns a little and rubs at his hair, thoughtful. "I haven't seen her. What does she remember about the attack?"

"Not much. Some guy comin' in and pushing her out. He was already dead - left her with his decomposing body while he wandered off with hers."

Dean shrugs, propping his head on his hands.

"You're the psychic one - you gotta know more about this stuff than me, right?"

Way to get scowled at, Dean. Sam shakes his head and drops his gaze to his journal again. "I haven't had the visions in over a year, Dean, you know that."

Although...

"So this guy was already a spirit. He just... pushed her out? She wasn't injured, near-dead?"

Dean is smiling, not smirking - relieved by Sam's response.

Last thing he wants to deal with is freaky psychic shit.

"Yeah, from what she tells me. Why - that mean anything to you, Research Kid?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam agrees casually, nodding and flipping pages. "It means that it's really weird, makes no sense, and I'd like to know how he did it."

He doesn't even need to look up to recognize Dean's relief. And if it comes down to forcing this thing out of the girl's body and an exorcism for demons doesn't work, then-- well, then Sam will have to do some quick thinking.

Right?

He stops writing and tapes the journal with the cap of the pen a few times.

"We can ask him when — oh, hey. Yeah. I guess if Jack's bringing the body back, the dude's still in it. We can ask him then."

Dean prods at the edge of the journal, curious.

"What's this?"

Sam frowns and glances up, curious. "Jack's bringing the body back? Here? How did he know where it was?"

As for the curiosity, Sam reaches for another book. "It's a stack of paper bound with leather and glue, commonly known as a 'notebook.' See, it's like a book, but for notes."

"Looks like a journal." Dean tugs on the edge. "Since when do you keep a journal?"

"-- oh, Jack? Some kinda psychic thing."

All gifts Dean doesn't understand are by definition 'freaky psychic things', except Rachel's.

Which is probably freaky-something-thing, just not psychic.

Sam puts a hand on top of the journal to keep him from pulling it over, eyes on his book and flipping a few more pages. "Since I had to start taking notes on your job."

Which is technically true. The real reason he started keeping the journal had everything to do with Dean and a job then, too.

"So gimme." Dean tugs insistently. "Since when do you not share information?"

"Since when do you care?" Sam shoots back, looking up to frown. "You're double-checking my research now?"

But his hand is looser on the journal.

"My own didn't get me anywhere," Dean says, and frowns at the books Sam's reading. They're not the ones he found. "I had t'get used to working without you."

Sam forces the tease, smiling condescendingly at his brother. "And yet, you can still barely get by without me. This thing that got in her body, it's definitely not a demon?"

Dean shrugs.

"Can't know for sure without talking to it. Sounds like a demon, only it forced her mind right out instead'a just shutting it away."

"Doesn't sound like a demon," Sam points out, frowning again. He releases the journal to reach for another book, but doesn't bothering opening it, frowning into space. "Doesn't sound like anything, really. You think an exorcism will actually force it out?"