WALK-OUT
The man's name had been Dick Roman, and that was a perfectly fine name for the leader of the leviathans to have. Dick Roman did not have the time or men to go investigate the mysterious server where Skaianet was situated, but he was able to have someone assimilate a hacker and tap into it. From what he learned, there was a session of the game situated at Roman Enterprises. But he hadn't started playing yet. All he had yet done was study the game from what the young humans were writing about it on the internet. Wherever people were disappearing to, it was to a place with a connection to Earth's internet.
Earth was about to be destroyed. It was not a good place to be a leviathan. Most of the leviathans were migrating to Roman Enterprises. They had just touched down here and hadn't yet the opportunity to really do much since escaping the neutrino detector. Dick had had so many plans too. The humans were quite tasty; however, it seemed that Sburb would have a way to let the leviathans get situated. It was alchemy. Once they started up a game, but before departing, the leviathans were going to take captured humans and start captchaloguing body parts, and try to captchalogue an entire human if they can... with that, they'd be able to just alchemize humans to eat. Or at least have the meat and materials required to start up some other super-science program at a later time.
However there was something that worried Dick. Sometimes he slept as humans do, and he had dreams. But in his dreams, he heard whispers of beings that exceeded his understanding. It was a terrifying thought, that anything could be older, hungrier, or mightier than leviathans. And they were far mightier. Far bigger...
The very thought of something so troubling and upsetting caused Dick to "awaken" within a violet tower. He found he could fly, and he floated out of the window of his tower and saw a city below him, and an even greater city existing on a larger body tethered to his own by a great chain. There were four other towers other than his own on this body. He floated over to one, and inside he found not a leviathan, as he'd have assumed, but a demon. And in the tower after that, he found the archangel Michael, who should be trapped in Hell.
Before he could proceed, the shock woke him up.
Dick had to change his plans and make them work fast. He was going to use Roman Enterprises as his "house", and stuff the property full with all the leviathans. He needed to have his server player connect with him and start outfitting the leviathans with sylladices so that the leviathans could produce all the food they wanted. Oh, and escape the meteor apocalypse of course. He'd be going in first. He just needed his server player. And he knew who it would be.
The demon he saw on Derse. His men were already working to bring him a spell to summon her.
His intercom sounded. "Sir, we have the spell ready. Shall we summon her?"
"Yes, hurry up," said Dick. He then stood up and brushed himself off, smiled, and then headed down to the room where the spell was being conducted. It was done when he passed through the doors, and there she was, the demon from Derse, trapped in a Devil's Trap.
"Hello, partner," he said and made a cheeky smile.
The demon that now called herself Meg glared at him. It was adorable to him. Her vessel had a very full, round face that made him hungry. But she was off-limits. "What do you want?" she asked.
"Don't be too hasty," he said. His men brought a table forward and some chairs, with half the table sticking out over the Devil's Trap. "Sit down," commanded Dick. He sat himself down as well. Meg took her seat, still glaring.
"Meg... We have business to discuss. But first let me ask you how you are doing?"
"Not so good," she said with a sigh. "Everything I believe in and fight for is crumbling down around me. I thought my purpose was now to kill the King of Hell, but now meteors are falling in Hell and destroying everything. There's not going to be an Earth or a Hell soon and there's no point in killing Crowley now." She sighed in an almost sultry way. "So, end of the world is here. I guess nothing is left to do but sit around and wait to get hit by something."
"Ohhh now don't say that," said Dick. "You're an American after all, or at least your meat-suit is. And we're go-getters aren't we?"
"You're from Purgatory," she laughed.
Dick smiled wider. "Yes. Yes I am. Okay, jokes aside. Are you aware of the fact that there is a video game capable of transporting people off this wretched, doomed rock?"
Meg stared and then smiled. "Hey, I thought you said you weren't going to tell jokes anymore..."
"Oh it is not a joke. This game exists, and humans are using it to escape this planet all over the place... including Crowley. He's going to survive all this."
Meg looked horrified. "No. No. That can't be true. That has to be a lie, or wrong or... No! That son of a bitch can't live through this!"
"The game's name is Sburb. And it has this strangest quality. It knows everyone destined to play it, and creates a whole new world for them to go and explore, complete with dream-self doppelgangers, sleeping in towers in the cities of two kingdoms destined to make war with each other. And if one can wake up there and explore, he can see all the other people he is destined to play this game with. I woke up, and I saw you there. You and I are destined to play this game as teammates."
Meg shook her head. "You're crazy. You were down in Purgatory too long honey. Besides, why would I want to work with a crazy monster like you?"
He gestured and two leviathans, big meaty fellows, crossed over and grabbed Meg and held her against the table.
"I'm not giving you a choice," Dick said delicately, licking his lips. "But I will sweeten this for you. Before I woke up, I saw that the archangel Michael would be playing with us. And I'm willing to bet that means Lucifer is too. Meg, my dear... you're getting a purpose again. Your father will be with you again shortly, and you'll be able to escape this place together...! But first, you have to help me."
Meg looked immensely conflicted. She growled and then sighed. "Okay, fine... fine. It might be fun. But you better not be lying to me."
"Now does this look like the face of a liar?" he asked and smiled.
Dean opened his eyes. He was in the Limopala. Orange light was pouring in from outside. He sat up and looked around. His laptop was sitting on the passenger side. He looked out the windshield and saw not the graveyard of Greenville, but an expanse of green, white, and something shining lay before him. He got out of the car and looked around.
He must be in the game. So this was Sburb?
The sky was orange and there was a large road stretching out ahead and behind him. On either side were white picket fences. Gaps occurred in the fence where additional roads crossed. Crossroads were frequent. Off-road was plentiful grass and thin, tall trees with red leaves growing large, rich apples. Off in the distance he could see mesas. Some of them had giant monuments on them. Some looked like the tables and racks from Hell, another was a cross, and another looked like a web of chains. Less morbid, he saw small seas of something shiny existing in the plains around him. If his eyes were not playing tricks on him, they looked like villages of shiny new cars.
Dean stared. This was... not what he was expecting. He was expecting something with maybe like a castle or something. He didn't know much about video games, but he assumed it would be something nerdy—castles, elves, dragons, that sort of thing.
"Dean?"
Dean gulped. That voice... it was very familiar. He turned around and saw Mary behind him. She was not standing, as she had no legs, but instead floated with a ghostly tail trailing behind her. She was holding a pie. She and the pie glowed in the same light the orb had glowed, the color of his jacket.
"Mom?" he gasped. A twist formed inside his heart.
The ghostly Mary smiled. "Hello dear. Welcome to the Medium."
Dean blinked, struggling to think of something to say. What did you say to the ghost of your mother? And why did she look so stupid? "What?" he finally choked out.
"The Medium dear. It is where you are."
"I'm in the game?" he asked.
"Hmm... well yes and no. The Medium doesn't actually exist in Sburb, that game is just the conduit. It is the gateway to the Medium, a place existing outside the time and space of your universe. It has sat here, waiting for you Dean, since time immemorial. It has waited for you Dean, because you have an important mission to accomplish here."
A flicker of annoyance coursed through him. More missions, more destiny? "Let me guess... I have to save the world again right?"
"Not quite dear," she said. "Earth is going to be destroyed by meteors no matter what. And this world you are in, your world, could be destroyed, but probably will not unless something terrible and unexpected happens."
"Then what?" he asked.
"Your journey is much nobler Dean. You spent your life trying to save people and gave up so much to do it, and to save the world. I am so proud of you for it. The scars of your effort cover your body, and cover your world, the Land of Cars and Martyrdom. But now you won't have to give just to save for some thankless job. Dean, your journey is one of creation!"
Dean rubbed his head. This wasn't making any sense. "Okay, uh exactly who are you? Because... you look just like my mom."
"I am your mother Dean," she said. "I've come back to help you. By putting my gravestone into the kernelsprite, I have been called back. Well, with pie too. I am here to help you, and I am your mother. But, I am also still a part of the kernelsprite, and I am filled with knowledge of your quest. I also know that, for you to truly grow into the man you can become, and realize the full potential of your abilities that you've demonstrated and struggled with during your entire journey back on Earth, I know that I cannot tell you everything. You will have to learn and grow on your own, but as you travel, I will be able to help you more and more."
Dean smiled and snickered. "This is nuts. Okay, I can deal with you looking like my mom and being cryptic. My whole job has been dealing with cryptic crap. But if you're my mother, tell me something only my mother would know."
She smiled. "Dean, I died when you were young, and you only saw fleeting glimpses of my life in the past."
"Yeah see? Michael wiped out your memory of that so you wouldn't remember," said Dean.
"Suppressed, dear," she said. "I remembered everything when I ascended to Heaven."
Dean shook his head. "Sorry, sprite, but I'm not buying it."
Marysprite frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that Dean. But I'm okay with this. I think you'll be able to learn for yourself in time. We have a lot to talk about! But, first, you probably need to get situated with your quest. I cannot tell you everything just yet, but I can give you the basics of what you must know."
Mary explained the nature of the kernelsprite, how it split and sent the information of its prototypings to two kingdoms, a kingdom of darkness, and a kingdom basking in light. And far from here, in the center of the Medium, was a crucible of unlimited creative potential, the wondrous world of Skaia. There, light and darkness were in a stalemate, but now that Dean was here, the true battle was beginning, and eventually darkness was going to triumph over light.
"And I'm supposed to stop that?" asked Dean, but Mary reassured Dean that his task was not to save, but to create. She told him that nothing could stop darkness from winning. Instead, Dean had a much more important quest... and in order to accomplish it, he would have to solve The Ultimate Riddle.
Dean groaned. He didn't like the sound of that. Mary finished by explaining that his quest begins quite simply. He must build the Limopala up, up, to the first of Seven Gates, whose fluctuating patterns glittered high above them.
"So... I just need Sam to build up to those gates and pass through them?" asked Dean, "And then we win the game?"
"Well it certainly sets you on your way dear," said Marysprite.
"Well alright then. One problem though, Sam said he was running out of grist. How do we get more grist?"
Mary pointed. Dean turned and saw an amber colored gang of short creatures walking towards him. They had nasty little faces. Some of them had Mary's hair. Some of them had pies on their heads.
Dean blinked. "Okay what the hell are those?"
"Imp's Dean. They are monsters of the Incipisphere, and are members of the forces of darkness. They are here to try and put an end to your quest, and to you. They have waited here for your arrival, and are now poised to attack. You are a hunter Dean, and I am afraid you have not escaped that fact by coming to the Incipisphere. But by defeating these monsters, you will obtain more grist, and with it, you will be able to build! And not just your car, you will be able to build better weapons and clothes and, well, lots of things! Good luck!"
Dean rubbed his head. "I just got here, and I'm already being attacked." He sighed and walked over to the Impala. Since Sam moved the guns in a hurry the trunk was a mess. He picked up a shotgun and loaded it with standard shells. He turned and saw six of the amber colored imps brandishing their claws at him, they were hissing and fidgeting and sneering. They were also calling him names.
These things were pathetic.
"Do I really have to kill these things?" asked Dean.
One of them scooped the pie off his head and threw it at Dean, striking the Impala and covering it in sticky, sugary slime. Dean glared at the imps and fired the shotgun just above their heads. They shrieked in fear and ran off in the direction they came.
"I'm going to go explore."
"Alright dear. Good luck!"
Dean waved at his mother sprite as he walked off toward the village of cars in the distance. The laptop and phone were left in the car, the pesterchum icon blinking furiously.
DC: Dean are you alright?
DC: Dean?
DC: Holy crap, is that Mom? Why is she a ghost?
DC: Oh that's why.
DC: So wait we can't even stop the forces of darkness? Then what is the point of this game?
DC: She isn't going to tell us is she?
DC: Well that was a lot to think about. Dean, when you get this, we need to try and figure out what she meant if we can.
DC: Oh c'mon Dean they're like half your size. You're not really going to kill those things are you?
DC: Oh good. Okay, so now you're coming over to the computer right?
DC: Dean? Dean where are you going.
DC: Dean answer your computer. I mean my computer. Dammit just get over here.
DC: Dean no dammit come back. Oh well never mind I can just text you can't I?
DC: Dean you idiot you forgot your phone.
DC: Stop! Can't you hear my messages?
DC: Dean no get back here! C'mon, feel your pockets man you don't have your phone!
DC: DEAN!
DC: Dean when you get back to the car I'm going to hit you in the head with an apple. God.
- deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] stopped pestering awesomeChevy [AC] -
Sam sighed and rubbed his head. Dean was wandering off now, and Sam didn't have enough grist to start doing anything useful.
"Oooh that's too bad, now you can't build—and things were 'looking up' for you," said Lucifer.
"Knock it off," grunted Sam. He pressed his scar, but flickered, but it took a half minute of constant pain to send him off. Sam was gasping as he finally let go.
More imps were showing up to the site of the Impala and Limopala. Sam wondered... He duplicated the Impala again and dropped the new one onto some of the imps, crushing them. Large chunks of a gusher-shaped material popped out of the imps and collected on the ground. Sam tried interacting with them, but it didn't seem possible to do so. He sighed; hopefully it would still be there when Dean got back. The weaponized Impala was bent out of shape from being dropped, but that was okay now that there were two others.
Now what should Sam be doing? There was barely any grist left at all.
Pesterchum began to blink and made its customary, hideous noise. Dingalingaling. Sam hated this program. He opened up the new chat.
- craigAristocrat [CA] began jeering deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -
CA: Tell Bobby to stop being a prat and download pesterchum.
DC: What? Why?
CA: Because you blokes seem to be using that as your primary method of communication. I'd be fine with a blood goblet or at least a mobile myself. I guess it sort of makes sense to keep in touch with computers since this is a computer game. Not that you would catch me dead using pesterchum.
DC: Then what are you using?
CA: Hell-o. Programmed it myself. Has all the features, and none of the garbage. It is experimental. I have been trying to decompile extra copies of the Sburb application to try and better understand how it works. It is programmed with a frustrating language, ~ATH, but I think I got the hang of it. My chat program is compatible with spells and incantations. So if I need to cast a spell, I can just use Hell-o to do it and save myself some time. Watch.
- craigAristocrat [CA] casts the spell of gingivitis on deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -
DC: Ow! Crowley cut that out!
CA: Never take good oral hygiene for granted my friend.
DC: I take good care of my teeth thank you, and my gums. Cut it out.
CA: Oh you're such a baby.
-craigAristocrat [CA] stopped casting on deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -
CA: Better?
CA: Hello? Sam where did you go. I'm a busy man Sam.
DC: I was brushing my teeth and flossing.
CA: The gingivitis vanished with the spell Sam.
DC: Yeah, whatever. I like taking care of my teeth.
CA: That is adorable. You're adorable moose. Now would you kindly get Bobby to download pesterchum so I can begin pestering him.
DC: What do you want with Bobby?
CA: What do I want? What I want is what is best for you. Balthazar is a little bit busy collecting our other two players. In the meantime I need Bobby to start installing Sburb and connect with you.
DC: Wait Balthazar? Castiel killed him.
CA: Never underestimate the shenanigans of angels, my friend.
DC: I'll try not to. Just tell me how.
CA: Balthazar was never dead.
DC: What?!
CA: I tried to tell you not to underestimate shenanigans, friend. I warned you. I told you.
CA: Friend.
DC: Are you making fun of me?
CA: I am never not making fun of you moose. If I had time, I would enjoy funding a short-running children's television series parodying your adventures in self-absorbed misconceived martyrdom for the delight of children too young and stupid to fully grasp the absurdity of your exploits. Only when they came to be adults would they be able to comprehend the Shakespearean level of stupidity you repeatedly demonstrated over your life. They would feel compelled to write academic analyses of your miraculous self-centeredness and ineptitude.
DC: Alright I get the point. You can stop now.
CA: Balthazar faked his own death. Don't worry about the details though. After all you were not there when it happened. Suffice to say, Balthazar is an expert when it comes to cowardice. And he is busy. So am I. However, I need to keep in touch with you lot. So make sure Bobby downloads pesterchum and the game client and server applications.
DC: Okay, but not because you told me to. Don't go thinking you're the boss here Crowley. We're a team this time.
CA: I will be happy to treat you like an equal when you and your brother stop being lousy at everything. The only one on our team as clever as me is Bobby. All the more reason for you to get him on pesterchum; I could use someone more engaging to talk to.
DC: Crowley shut the hell up, I'm doing it already.
CA: Fair enough.
-craigAristocrat [CA] ceased jeering deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -
Sam called Bobby. It rang several times before Bobby picked up.
"Yeah son?" he said. His voice sounded heavy.
"Getting tired Bobby?"
"I'm fine, just making a pot of coffee now. You doing okay Sam?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam said.
"How is the search going for your brother?"
"Uhmmm. Yeah about that. We started playing the game."
Bobby didn't respond right away. "Oh... So we're going with Crowley's plan huh?"
"Yeah, sorry," said Sam. "But that doesn't mean we have to let him boss us around."
"If it is all the same, Sam, working with Crowley seems to be getting us screwed nine ways til' Sunday. Each and every time."
"Yeah I here you. I was thinking maybe we should just play by ourselves and cut Crowley out."
"Except that Crowley says we're all pre-destined to play this game. Assuming he's telling the truth that is."
"Yeah. Hey, did he mention to you how he's getting more players for our team?"
"No..." said Bobby suspiciously.
"He isn't telling me who they are either."
"That sounds nasty. Think he's going to fill those slots up with demons?"
"I can't imagine the demons want to go down with the ship..."
"Right... Well we'll see what comes. In the meantime, I guess if you got Dean into that game, then I need to get you in next right?"
"I'd appreciate it."
"Alright, let me get on my computer."
Bobby took the hand-held phone to his aged computer and started booting it up.
"Hey Bobby. Dean and me have been keeping in touch using a messaging program called pesterchum. Would you mind downloading that too?"
"Jeez boy you really want me to overwork my computer that badly? This thing probably won't even be able to handle playing that game. It can barely handle the 2001 Oregon Trail."
"Ouch."
"Yeah yer telling me," sighed Bobby. "I'm probably going to have to get a new computer just to run this stupid thing, but here's to hoping... Oh... strange."
"What?"
"Well... this old piece of crap can't download anything too terribly fast, but it already finished downloading both programs. Maybe the download was a bust. The files are probably corrupt."
"Can you check them?"
"What do you think I'm doing boy? Unbelievable, the thing is actually working."
"Alright, while it is installing can you get pesterchum as well? Your computer should be able to run the 3.0."
"Alright alright fine ya idjit. If we're going to talk online I'm going to hang up now."
"Alright, and Bobby? My username is deductive cryptozoologist."
"What?"
"Dedu—"
"I heard you the first time, but that's a really pretentious name."
Sam sighed and felt a flicker of annoyance. "See you Bobby." He hung up.
"And that's why we make such a good pair," said Lucifer, appearing behind Sam once more. "Between you and me, we have enough pride to save every suicidal-depressed person on the planet."
Sam pressed his scar. About six minutes later pesterchum began to flicker.
- idjitWhacker [IW] began pestering deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -
IW: Sam?
DC: Hey Bobby.
IW: Alright so this thing is working. Good. The game is ready to connect. What do I need, your IP address?
DC: Okay Bobby, here is what you need to do.
IW: Never mind I figured it out.
Sam noticed that his client-side copy of Sburb was now asking him to hit Enter.
DC: Good job Bobby. Also, idjit whacker?
IW: You are a fool if you think your screen name is any better than mine.
DC: No, I kind of like it. It suits you.
IW: You are damn right it does. Now that I am here we're going to make this game our bitch. I may not have as much brawn as you and Dean, but I can carry my own, and I'll be damned if I'm not smart enough to figure out some stupid video game.
IW: By the way, what is Dean's screen name?
DC: awesomeChevy
IW: ...
IW: Well okay I added it. He isn't answering though.
DC: Dean walked away from both his computer and his phone.
IW: You're joking. What a dang fool he is. So tell me what is about to happen.
DC: I hit enter, and your computer screen will start showing you a live feed of the motel room I'm sitting on.
DC: Oh shit.
IW: What?
DC: I just realized. This room isn't big enough. What is going to happen if you try to expand anything into the space occupied by the other rooms.
IW: In in hell's name are you talking about?
DC: Well I'm the only one here I think. So we'll give it a try. I'm hitting enter now.
IW: Sam wait you idjit
IW: Jeez that music was loud.
IW: Okay I can see you now.
IW: There's a bunch of crap on the screen. I have no idea what any of this does.
DC: I'll walk you through it.
Sam explained the options and what they would do. Bobby practiced by moving the spare bed around a little and then expanding the doorway outward, creating a small hallway. Bobby couldn't believe this was really happening. However it was certainly an improvement to some of the other crap they had to deal with.
IW: Jeez Sam this is a wonderful thing. I can't wait to use it on my own yard. It is going to make dealing with scrap so much easier. Hell, I might actually get all my scrap work done with this.
DC: Too bad you can't be your own server client.
IW: I can't? Shoot. Then what?
DC: Well if Dean connects to you then he'll be the one messing with your house and property.
IW: Oh hell no. Dean is not going anywhere near my house with a magic cursor.
DC: I don't know what to tell you Bobby. It is that or we get another player to connect with you.
IW: Well can't you do it?
DC: But I'm already Dean's server host.
IW: Is that a problem?
DC: I think it is. I mean, how would I even open up the server application again? I think I would need another computer.
IW: Well go out and buy one. Idjit.
DC: Bobby. We might be in a hurry. Make some space for the Cruxtruder and deploy it and hit it with something heavy. I need to see how much time I have until my meteor hits.
IW: Right.
Bobby selected a space of the motel and expanded it. He zoomed out to see what happened. Apparently the rooms nearby were pushed outward too. He didn't want to think about what that did to the plumbing or electric, but so far all it did was make the entire complex slightly larger, in favor of Sam's room. He then raised the ceiling of the entire room higher and expanded the dimensions of the floor a little farther as well.
DC: Bobby be careful, we only have twenty Build Grist.
IW: No we don't I started out with 200.
DC: What? How can that be?
IW: Maybe the game knows I'm smarter than you and it gave me more grist to work with.
DC: That sounds
DC: never mind
IW: Deal with it.
Bobby deployed the Cruxtruder and hit it with the bed. Out popped a dark magenta glowing orb.
IW: Sam what is that thing? You explained everything else but I don't remember you mentioning this orb.
IW: What are you doing with your dad's journal?
Sam unpacked Dad's journal from his bag and threw it into the kernelsprite. There was a flash, and then John's face was superimposed within.
IW: I think I'm going to be sick. What did you just do?
Sam looked at the timer. He had fifteen minutes to get out of here. He sat down.
DC: Bobby. I have fifteen minutes before the meteor hits. I need the card, totem-lathe, and alchemiter. Stat.
IW: Woah hold on. I know you are in a hurry but why is John's head floating in your room.
DC: Bobby I'm in a hurry.
IW: Fine. I deploy, you start talking.
DC: Okay okay fine. It is a kernelsprite. It can bring the dead back to life, but it alters them into being part of the game.
IW: That sounds like a world of bad. Bringing the dead back to life is one thing, but if the game really brainwashes them... Sam how could you do that?
DC: Dean already did it with Mom. Plus, I think you are supposed to.
IW: You're supposed to?
DC: For the game.
Sam took the pre-punched card dropped for him and used the totem-lathe to carve out the dark magenta cruxite dowel. Bobby didn't have enough room for the Alchemiter without raising the roof again, so he put it on the roof itself and made a hole with a ladder to get up to the top. Sam stared for a moment, wondering how on earth he was going to get the dowel up the ladder when he remembered he had a back-pack. He dumped it out and put the dowel inside and ascended.
Sam looked high above. A red dot was approaching. It was still small, but he knew it would be here before long. He loaded up the Alchemiter with the carved cruxite. A moment later the mechanical arm scanned it and produced what looked like a wardrobe, which spat out a pair of shoes.
"What."
Sam stared and then looked back up at the sky. No time. He yanked off his shoes and then started putting on the new ones, tying them. Still nothing. He looked up again. The meteor would be here soon.
"Crap crap crap," Sam said and went down the ladder to get at the computer. The timer on the Cruxtruder said 6:12.
DC: Bobby it isn't working I don't know how to make these things work.
IW: Why are you asking me I don't know a damn thing about this thing! What happened with Deans?
DC: It was a set of car keys. He had to put them in the Limopala because they didn't work in the Impala.
IW: The Limopala what
IW: never mind
IW: Sounds like it has something to do with you personally. You're going to have to figure it out son. Hurry your ass up!
Sam rubbed his head. What on earth could these shoes mean? He almost considered asking Lucifer for help, but Lucifer wanted him dead even though the hallucination depended on Sam for their existence. What was he to do?
"Sammy are you really having trouble figuring this out? I thought you were the smart one."
Sam looked up. The floating head of John Winchester was looking at him. "Now don't you take this the wrong way... just do as I say. Remember all the times you walked out on us Sam? Walk out. Now!"
Sam remembered, looked at the shoes... and yes it clicked. Dean had to use the keys on the ignition. Sam has to walk out of the door. He ran for the door of the motel and threw it up, and ran out of the motel.
And into the Land of Graves and Memory.