Nightshift 29: M31-M40 Hallway

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Another unexciting dinner led into to another shot at busting out of the institution as Nightshift rolled around. Of course, Jack had other plans to attend to first. He had been rather interested in crashing paying a visit to M98 after the bulletin promised "cigarettes, booze, and sandwiches". The "manflesh" he could do without, but even if he wasn't welcome (last time he checked, he wasn't a hot lady, though the way things were going, who knew what tomorrow held?), he'd strong arm his way in and take what he wanted!

Sliding from his room into the hall with his maps and flashlight, the Fable set out to find his way to the party and may score some liquor and smokes.

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M38

[thehellismycar.livejournal.com]

As the lone resident of M38, Dean wasn't inclined to go about preparing for the night in secrecy. Thoughts concerning his talk with Sam that afternoon, the surprise preceding it that still had him shaken up... pretty much everything refusing to work in his favour was currently anesthetised.

What the hell good was meditation gonna do, anyway? And just why was it that tonight of all nights he had to open his closet and discover normal clothes? Normal clothes that were...

His.

Removing his leather jacket from a hanger, he gazed intently at it, certain this was definitely the exact same jacket he'd last seen stuffed in a bag in the Impala's trunk. Mouthing 'what the f-' didn't shed light on the situation as he frantically grabbed at the rest of the pieces that completed his very own outfit. His shirts, jeans, even his boots for God's sake! Was this a joke?

If it was... he couldn't say these 'gifts' succeeded to upset him. No sir. ... Wait, was that...?

He twisted cloth band with a familiar feel to it around his fist, thumb rubbing the face of his amulet. And there was... his ring, holy-! His wristlet, too? He gave a tired, boyish smile. This had to be good news. No way the staff'd just return possessions to patients, not when their job was to reinforce the idea his whole life was an illusion. This was his first glimpse at a 'bright side' in what felt like a long time.

Something was awry in the asylum this evening. Radio guy was chatty, had Dean's attention with his claims thus far. Slipping into the jeans and socks, he realised with a sharp intake of breath that experimental trials were tonight.

The painkillers found a new home in his jacket, which he then threw on with the amulet, awkwardly adjusting the collar as he took hold of his flashlight and radio, shoved the shoes on and broke into a half-sprint.

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