Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
Summary: Set season six, The wall isn't holding up very well making Dean consider suing for consumer liability. Except it's death and his currency is death. So Castiel proposes a solution which involves bringing in two of Sam's college buddies who both majored in Psychology. Parody and Humour.
Thank you to those who have anything to do with Supernatural and thank you Tom Stoppard. And possibly Shakespeare. For those of you familiar with the play, I hope I do justice to the original wit. To those unfamiliar good luck.
May the coin forever land on heads for you.
"Mr. Rosencrantz and Mr. Guildenstern."
A pair of eyes turned up at the statement. The others lolled up after hesitating at the questionably folded tie. Both looked into blue ones.
"You are psychologists.'
It wasn't a question really, though it was debatable whether or not the trench coat man put any inflection into his voice; enough at least to tell when a question was being asked. So all in all it may have very well been a question.
"Umm"
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern exchanged looks. Both came up puzzled. Neither could remember how they'd gotten here. Where was here anyhow? An old motel or just a poorly maintained one, probably both; a place that had no obvious character.
Guildenstern ummed back to his friend.
"Yes." Rosencrantz looked at his friend briefly before speaking again "Yes, I do believe we are psychologists."
The man nodded before briefly considering them. His head cocked to the side and his brows furrowed. Then he disappeared. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern stared at the empty spot.
"Should we be upset?"
Guildenstern looked at Rosencrantz "At what? The un-, sub-, or supernatural forces at work here? The probability that a man can just disappear? Or both if they correlate at all?"
Rosencrantz opened his mouth to respond but instead his tongue flicked out in thought and he moved his jaw trying to form something.
"Probability?"
Guildenstern raised an eyebrow at that.
"You get probability out of that? Out of everything that just happened?"
"Well I can't garner why we're here and I don't well remember. Wouldn't wondering about the probability of the situation help? If the probability of us being somewhere we aren't sure of and not remembering how we got here along with a man just disappearing is at a rate higher than 60% than I think I can manage."
"And if it isn't?"
"Well than we know that the opposite probability, the one where we might just be imagining something or other, is more than probably true because it has a higher probability."
"Which makes what better?"
"That we have figured out what is probably going on."
Guildenstern sighed and stood. He offered an arm to Rosencrantz who took it. Both were now standing in the hotel room looking blankly about.
"Say the law of probability is a force of nature."
"Force of science actually. Say you were to flip a coin so many times, the law of probability would say that at some given point (one which would involve flipping the coin an innumerable amount of times) you would generally have an equal amount of heads and an equal amount of tails. Probability should work however even without supernatural forces."
"Un- and sub-?"
"Those too."
"If we're just imagining this, why would we be imagining this?"
"I'm sure there are probabilities of why we are imagining this in comparison to the probabilities of us imagining something else."
"What are those probabilities in comparison to the probabilities of us not imagining this?"
"I'm sure something in the 60% range. According to the law of probability at least."
"What is the law of probability anyway?"
"The law (or formula) of total probability is a fundamental rule relating marginal probabilities to conditional probabilities. It expresses the total probability of an outcome which can be realized via several distinct events"
Both jumped to see the man in the trench coat back and standing in the room again.
Rosencrantz looked apprehensively at the trench coat man before uttering
"Thank you."
There was an awkward silence as both Guilden Stern and Rosen Crantz watched the man stare at them.
"I need your help."
The man took a step forward and instinctively the other two took a step back.
"You both attended Stanford in the years 2004-2010. You both majored in psychology."
Guilden Stern nodded warily while Rosen Crantz smiled in surprise.
"How did you know that?"
The trench coat man looked eerily at Rosen Crantz
"I am an angel. My name is Castiel. You both attended school with a Sam Winchester, yes?"
Guilden Stern and Rosen Crantz thought. Sam Winchester? It was drawing a blank.
Rosen Crantz snapped his fingers "I remember now!"
He looked at Guilden Stern "He was that one bloke, remember?"
"There were a lot of blokes."
"The one with the great hair."
Guildenstern looked at his friend in consternation.
"Oh come on now, the one who was a whiz at law."
When Guildenstern's face pinched in frustration Rosencrantz continued.
"The one who left college early because his girlfriend died in that fire, he was the one who was in the dorm room next to ours."
Understanding dawned on Guildenstern's face.
"Ah, I remember now. I lost the best rice cooker I've ever owned because of that fire. Why didn't you start with that one to begin with?"
Castiel shifted and both men turned their attentions back to him.
"As psychologists you can help those struggling with mental instability."
"I guess you could say that. Rosen Crantz here though does research."
"Will you help me?"
Rosencrantz bit at his lip confusion again coloring his face.
"I'm not sure, we don't even know what we'll be helping you with."
"Sam Winchester is not the same anymore."
"I don't mean to be rude or anything but why do you keep bringing up Sam?"
"Because he needs help."
"Yes but you're here to get our help. Sam isn't here to get our help."
"I need your help with Sam."
"Oh, that's what he meant."
There was a pause.
"Will you help?'
Rosencrantz immediately began nodding his head agreeably causing Guildenstern to frown and then open his mouth. Before he could say anything though Castiel had placed a finger on each of their heads and the nowhere motel that they'd been at disappeared and they were somewhere else.
Dean had been waiting anxiously all day for Castiel. Sam had the wall up in his head however it seemed to be one of those pseudo walls that exist for aesthetics and legal debates on trespassing. For the last week Sam had been seeing things. So Castiel had promised to find a solution to their current problem. He hadn't stated exactly what that solution was going to be just that it would be here at some point today.
Bobby's kitchen floor had suffered nearly as much as Dean who had been pacing it the entire day, because with Castiel that day could mean at one in the morning or a minute before midnight. So Dean had paced. Sam meanwhile had watched TV, read, paced, and sat in the corner when his hallucinations came on. Once he got up to make lunch but Dean had beat him to it. Bobby meanwhile was watching the two with increasing despair.
His poor kitchen did not deserve this. He didn't either but for whatever reason he worried about his kitchen. Dean worried about Castiel and Sam worried about Popeye, toaster strudels, and bloody innards which he was debating on whether or not they were just the intestinal tract or that and an appendix. He honestly couldn't tell.
So when Castiel appeared in the kitchen with two men standing in front of him Dean was a little better, Bobby feared for his kitchen even more, and Sam decided that the bigger blob wasn't the appendix after all but rather a kidney.
It's meant to be a crack fic if you couldn't tell. For those with patience, thank you kindly. Probability will continue to be an issue and the competency of Mr.'s Rosencrantz and Guildenstern will be called into to question. I can continue if people would like, stop if otherwise.
