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writetomyheart2019-03-20 10:07 pm
bluedreaming) wrote in writetomyheart2019-03-20 10:07 pm
Entry tags:
[team sonic] been dreaming
First words from In The Storm. Can we keep sonic going?
“Not again,” Dean sighs as the stream on the television screen pixelates and then freezes. He checks his phone and, yup, their internet is down. Again. For the tenth time in the last two hours.
“The universe conspiring against you finishing the last episode?” Sam asks from the table, where he's working on some extra-curricular essay or other. Dean’s proud of his brother, but his smug tone right now is pissing him off.
“Just because you don't need to use the internet right now—,” he begins, as Sam laughs.
“You should have joined the debate club, like I've told you to only every year,” Sam says, Dean mouthing along with the words. Sam notices, and sighs as he shakes his head. “You're so immature.”
Dean’s in the process of unearthing himself from the sofa cushions—if he’s not going to be able to finish his show, then he at least wants a snack—when the lights flicker and then sizzle out with a staticky hiss.
“What the—?” he exclaims, fumbling for the phone the should be in his pocket but must have fallen out onto the couch. There's the scrape of a chair, and then the room is dimly lit by the small light of Sam’s phone.
His younger brother’s eyes look wider than usual in the shadows, even though his voice is steady. “I’ll try the breaker.”
Dean mouths a small cheer as his fingers glide over smooth plastic, and he flips the phone into his hand. “I’ll get the lantern and—”
He's interrupted by the sound of Sam’s footsteps returning sooner than they should. “Power’s out?” he asks, turning to glance back. Sam’s expression is pinched in confusion.
“The switches weren’t even flipped,” he says. They both glance up at the light over their heads, and then over towards the living room windows.
“Not again,” Dean sighs as the stream on the television screen pixelates and then freezes. He checks his phone and, yup, their internet is down. Again. For the tenth time in the last two hours.
“The universe conspiring against you finishing the last episode?” Sam asks from the table, where he's working on some extra-curricular essay or other. Dean’s proud of his brother, but his smug tone right now is pissing him off.
“Just because you don't need to use the internet right now—,” he begins, as Sam laughs.
“You should have joined the debate club, like I've told you to only every year,” Sam says, Dean mouthing along with the words. Sam notices, and sighs as he shakes his head. “You're so immature.”
Dean’s in the process of unearthing himself from the sofa cushions—if he’s not going to be able to finish his show, then he at least wants a snack—when the lights flicker and then sizzle out with a staticky hiss.
“What the—?” he exclaims, fumbling for the phone the should be in his pocket but must have fallen out onto the couch. There's the scrape of a chair, and then the room is dimly lit by the small light of Sam’s phone.
His younger brother’s eyes look wider than usual in the shadows, even though his voice is steady. “I’ll try the breaker.”
Dean mouths a small cheer as his fingers glide over smooth plastic, and he flips the phone into his hand. “I’ll get the lantern and—”
He's interrupted by the sound of Sam’s footsteps returning sooner than they should. “Power’s out?” he asks, turning to glance back. Sam’s expression is pinched in confusion.
“The switches weren’t even flipped,” he says. They both glance up at the light over their heads, and then over towards the living room windows.