are you there ?

he was off. his shift was over. he shouldn’t be heading to the park for some kid, but here he is. having to delay his night and date. speaking of ... he calls her to tell her they should reschedule due to work. she changes her mind about going on a date with him at all and hangs up. guess i’m not seeing her again, he thinks to himself. 

as he arrives, he keeps an eye out for whoever had been setting the garbage cans on fire. “ fuckin’ kids, ” he grumbles as he gets out of his truck and starts to wander the grounds. he doesn’t have to go far to find a fire lit in the tennis court. deciding to stay quiet until he gets closer, he walks up until he’s at the gate. “ you wanna tell me what the hell you’re doin settin’ fires in the park, kid ? ” he tries to sound as calm as possible, even if he’s pissed as all hell.

“WHO ARE WE TO SAY WHAT IS EVIL AND WHAT ISN’T?” sam pondered aloud, tapping his chin in thought, “i mean, humans aren’t exactly great either, how can we determine if demons are evil if we haven’t even met them?” fortunately for sam, june didn’t seem to think he was crazy ( at least not yet ) for mentioning demons and was more concerned about the hotel. 

“what if the demon doesn’t vomit on the walls but elsewhere?” he jokes, a stupid smile on his lips. he really thinks he is funny, huh? “in all seriousness, i think this demon happens to be potty trained, plus they don’t seem to wander too far from me – maybe they’re in love with me? either way, yes i’ll make sure they don’t rip up your sheets and such.”

what is and isn’t evil. june was the last person to be talking on that subject. the man went to church ( albeit rarely ) and allowed shady business to go on in his hotel, for christ’s sake. however, sam was right. how were they to know that what they’d been taught – what he’d been taught, anyway – wasn’t a lie ? all he know was that humans weren’t all that great ... but they weren’t all bad either. like him.

so, he shrugs. and leans back into his chair, finding himself touching the cross around his neck. “ blind faith, ” he suggests, though more as a statement than a question. “ the church seems to have a large say in what’s evil and what isn’t. ” not that he cared much. he was always falling asleep in church.

his hand drops from the cross as he turns his head towards sam, brow raising. “ dreadmoure better have a bio hazard team, because i am not touching that. ” he wouldn’t even let his employees touch demon vomit. still, he finds himself smiling and rolling his eyes. “ just be aware of its intentions, i suppose. at the very least, build some trust with it. blood doesn’t clean easily. ” is it a joke ? maybe. but he says it with such assuredness that it very well may not be a joke.

she wished he wouldn’t eat the way he did, she used to always pester him about it. try having yogurt instead of that donut, sweetheart. but he was a stubborn man. preferred the readiness of a donut. especially when he was working. she knows his habits must’ve plummeted further after they split. she wasn’t there to make him omelets in the morning — and she assumed he’d be too weighed down by grief and his own thoughts to even get out of bed if she wasn’t forcing him. 

hell, nowadays, it was even hard to get herself out of bed. but still she did, always placing a smile on her face for others. fake it ‘til you make it.

but being around Jim, there was a slight feeling of comfort knowing that he was feeling the same way she was. as twisted as that may seem, she needed that reassurance that she wasn’t alone in this. misery loves company. 

this was also her nonchalant way of snooping into the investigation of Jorge. she knew how things worked, he could only say as much as he was allowed to. but she hoped he’d humor her. this was a tough time of year for the both of them, and now she had the disappearance of her husband pressing more weight onto her shoulders. 

“mhmm,” she nods gently at his words, “I better not hear back from Nic that he was the only one eating it.” she shoots him a stern but soft expression. hoping that he would take some home for himself.  but her gaze drops at the mention of Jorge. she couldn’t help but think that the disappearance of the Poels and Jorge were somehow connected. stranger things have happened in this town for that not to be the case. but how was it connected? she wasn’t sure. “good …. that’s, t-that’s good. I’d like to help if I could —” she trails off, her gaze settling back onto him. god, when was the last time he slept? the darkening under his eyes making him appear almost sick.

because of course he’d done that a few times. given the entire thing to nic, saying he’d join him later, and then never eating because he either forgot or just never had an appetite. and she’d always seem to know if he did or not. he lets out a small huff through his nostrils, shaking his head. the smile that tugged on his lips was brief, never quite reaching his eyes. “ you won’t. ” he’d just have to take some for the road.

the air around them grew heavy with grief and worry. if he didn’t find him soon, she would have yet another death on her mind. and he couldn’t let that happen. watching her brings that heavy feeling he felt in his chest back, but this time it starts to constrict around his throat. when she looks back up, he forces a swallow and casts his own gaze down to his coffee. watches as the steam rises and disappears, much like the mist on the lake that night. breathe.

“ yeah. ” he says, clearing his throat. “ yeah, of course. we need all the people we can get. ” the forest was vast and thick. almost like it was hiding something in there. bodies, probably. he shakes the thought from his head and decides to down the rest of his still very warm coffee, ignoring the slight burn down his throat. after a pause, his voice lowers and he leans forward. “ we’ll find him. we will. ” he’s not dying like sara.

when she’s stressed she cooks, when she’s distracted she cooks, when she’s happy — basically, it wasn’t uncommon to find Diane surrounded by dishes she’s cooked. but more recently, Diane found herself to be more stressed than anything else. troubling memories bubbling up in the back of her mind. it was that time of year again where little things would set her off. whether it be seeing a little girl with blonde hair, or just seeing a book about space at the local store.  not even the love she had for her foster children could ease the pain of the hole that resided in her heart. 

she no longer had Jorge either. it seemed luck was no longer something she had. almost as if everything she cared for, disappeared with a single touch.  and so she cooks. a distraction.  but she still had someone from her past, someone she tried her hardest to keep at arms length now, but couldn’t quite manage that. he’d been her whole heart once. and there was still a piece for him residing there.  Jim. she knew that he didn’t eat often enough, especially when working on a case. he’d let the details devour him until there was nothing left. it had been something she loved and hated about the man. too head-strong and determined for his own good.  and so here she was, in his office. a glass dish filled to the brim with spaghetti, covered in tin foil. 

she smiles warmly, as he says her name, a slight shift in posture as she sits across from him at his desk, “good morning to you too, Jim.” she replies softly.  “I thought you and Nic could use some food — I know it’s early, but you know me, I’m always cooking for an army. I had some errands to run anyway, so I figured I’d pop by…” her voice is soft, soothing. she’s trying her hardest to hide the way she was truly feeling.  but he’d always been far too good at detecting those types of things. however, she’s hoping with everything going on, he’d let it slip past his radar. 

you know me. he does. he knows her like the back of his hand, even still. he sees the way she fidgets with the corner of the foil. she’s almost as good as him at hiding her true intentions. almost. she comes in the mornings around this time of year, before she goes to work. otherwise, she comes when she can. 

but today was a saturday. no work for her, and no rest for him given their circumstances. he’s much better at hiding his feelings, but much like diane, he began to slip around this time of year. it didn’t help that he had three missing people on his hands, and he was nowhere near finding them. dark circles underneath sad tired looking eyes were giving him away. but those around him knew better than to ask him about it.

“ thanks, ” he mumbles before taking a sip of his coffee and munching on his donut. “ nic’ll love it. ”

despite their falling out two years ago, he did still love her. maybe not as much as before, but it was still there. she lost sara, too. he knows he isn’t alone in that, knows she grieves as well. but it just seemed like she was able to escape the black hole that he’d so desperately wanted to leave. still, now that jorge was missing, perhaps it all came crawling back to her. which reminds him ... 

status : open

timestamp : season 001 episode 002 ( most haunted )

partner : samuel prince

“SO … WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IF I TOLD YOU I THINK I SUMMONED A DEMON?” the poet asked, resting his elbow against the countertop and placing his chin in his palm, as if his question weren’t outrageous. “i mean – they don’t seem to be harmful? i’ve just noticed … something is different. maybe it’s just my mind playing tricks on me with everything going on.” 

it wasn’t sam’s first time dealing with otherworldly beings, wether they be ghosts or demons or whatever, but before he was able to sage the presence away. that didn’t seem very likely to happen in his current living situation, however. while he owned the mansion on deadwood ave, he needed a lot of renovations to be completed before he could live there comfortably, hence why he was staying at the local hotel. “it’s not that big of a deal, i suppose. as long as they’re nice … right?”

june sits at the bar during his break, an empty glass ( that he can’t remember if he drank already or not ) sitting in front of him while he listens to the question. a demon, he thinks. any normal person might have laughed and told sam not to be silly – for demons don’t exist. but given the strangeness of this town ( and what he’s seen ), he merely purses his lips as if he’s thinking about it.

it’s where he sits now, flipping through an old national geographic magazine when he sees someone walk in. and immediately does he stand, places the magazine back onto the counter and smiles politely. “ welcome in, ” he says as the man comes closer, eyes catching the badge at his hip. huh. wonder what he wants. “ is there anything i can help you with ? ”

he drives to work with a blank look in his eyes, only seeming to come to life when he parks in front of the station. he takes a deep breath and blinks a few times, adjusting his hat before he steps out of his car. the burly man shivers at the gust of wind that brings leaves down the street, making his way inside.

he grumbles a morning to their receptionist before walking through the door that brings him to the back – and thus their little kitchen. coffee is the most important part of his day, and it’s where he goes first. he likes it black, like ... well, like the lake at night. with just a spoon full of sugar. when he’s done with that, he grabs a donut from the box on the table and takes a bite out, making way for his office.

he doesn’t quite notice the body in his office when he just waltzes on in, chomping away at his donut. it’s only until he sits down in his chair that he pays enough attention – and it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room.

she does this often, drops by with – food ... ? he sniffs, but makes it look like he’s taking a deep breath. spaghetti, today. he’s not sure why he’s surprised each time. perhaps it’s because sara had her eyes. a dull sort of pain began to well in his chest, so he clears his throat and sits back in his chair, coffee in hand.

“ diane, ” her name comes out a little forced. try harder. “ couldn’t’ve waited till after morning ? ”