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Lying down on the job. (Open.)
It had been a long night. Before that, it had been a long day; and even before that, it had been another long night. The Winchesters were used to getting sleep when they could and where they could, but they never just dropped in the middle of a gig.
At least, not unless they were very, very tired.
The three tables were situated on an open green in one of the park's numerous clearings. A battered tin trash can was chained to the only occupied table, which supported a heap of books both open and closed and black thermos with the lid off. The younger Winchester had his head cushioned on the curve of one thick arm with an open book as a pillow, a book that was literally indecipherable unless you were used to picking out meaning from handwritten medieval French. The little cup of coffee was stone cold next to his other elbow, which rested on a few newer books that proved to be facsimiles of other French manuscripts. Lay le Freine was the uppermost. His cellphone marked a page of an Old French Language Resource.
For once, Sam was unarmed and unharmed. He looked more like a student than someone who had recently come off a battlefield. He was not so much asleep as "dead to the world" and it took a lot of the grimness from his usual expression.
At least, not unless they were very, very tired.
The three tables were situated on an open green in one of the park's numerous clearings. A battered tin trash can was chained to the only occupied table, which supported a heap of books both open and closed and black thermos with the lid off. The younger Winchester had his head cushioned on the curve of one thick arm with an open book as a pillow, a book that was literally indecipherable unless you were used to picking out meaning from handwritten medieval French. The little cup of coffee was stone cold next to his other elbow, which rested on a few newer books that proved to be facsimiles of other French manuscripts. Lay le Freine was the uppermost. His cellphone marked a page of an Old French Language Resource.
For once, Sam was unarmed and unharmed. He looked more like a student than someone who had recently come off a battlefield. He was not so much asleep as "dead to the world" and it took a lot of the grimness from his usual expression.