Sam had only been kidding with that last remark, but when Dean went on a little further, he couldn't help but think that it really did sound like what would've happened if someone decided to sci-fi up Alice in Wonderland.
He hesitated, stared, eyebrows raised. He nodded. "Yeah, that is crazy."
He paused again. There wasn't much you could say to robots and time machines that didn't obey the laws of physics. And a doctor, apparently. What? If he didn't know better, he would've asked if Dean had been tripping on something.
Actually, a part of him felt like asking that, anyway. Seriously, this wasn't even a case of sorting stuff out. He was just baffled, plain and simple, and it was rare he ran up against something that made as little sense as this. Even the Trickster, the first time around—even that had given them a couple of leads to go off of, and that case had included a freaking alien abduction.
Letting out a slow breath, he said, "Maybe wherever your friend came from, that's how things are. You know, like we have demons and he has, uh. Robots."
It was an easy explanation, a cop-out almost—that's just the way it is—but Sam knew, too, that sometimes, it was better to accept things at face value and go from there instead of driving yourself crazy trying to figure out how the hell something was even possible. Because the truth was, it wasn't as though he had a good explanation for why all those things that should've belonged in a mythology book on a library shelf, why they were real. They just were.
Telling himself this was simpler than getting his mind to accept it, though. He rubbed the corner of his eye. He had a crapload of questions for Dean, but now wasn't the time to start chipping away at that. He needed to do it in a place where he wasn't surrounded by people, where he could actually think without the low chatter of the patients buzzing in his ear.
"I think I should come find you tonight and we can talk this over. I wanna start putting our information together, make sure we're both on the same page."
no subject
He hesitated, stared, eyebrows raised. He nodded. "Yeah, that is crazy."
He paused again. There wasn't much you could say to robots and time machines that didn't obey the laws of physics. And a doctor, apparently. What? If he didn't know better, he would've asked if Dean had been tripping on something.
Actually, a part of him felt like asking that, anyway. Seriously, this wasn't even a case of sorting stuff out. He was just baffled, plain and simple, and it was rare he ran up against something that made as little sense as this. Even the Trickster, the first time around—even that had given them a couple of leads to go off of, and that case had included a freaking alien abduction.
Letting out a slow breath, he said, "Maybe wherever your friend came from, that's how things are. You know, like we have demons and he has, uh. Robots."
It was an easy explanation, a cop-out almost—that's just the way it is—but Sam knew, too, that sometimes, it was better to accept things at face value and go from there instead of driving yourself crazy trying to figure out how the hell something was even possible. Because the truth was, it wasn't as though he had a good explanation for why all those things that should've belonged in a mythology book on a library shelf, why they were real. They just were.
Telling himself this was simpler than getting his mind to accept it, though. He rubbed the corner of his eye. He had a crapload of questions for Dean, but now wasn't the time to start chipping away at that. He needed to do it in a place where he wasn't surrounded by people, where he could actually think without the low chatter of the patients buzzing in his ear.
"I think I should come find you tonight and we can talk this over. I wanna start putting our information together, make sure we're both on the same page."