A/N: Set during & after 2.19 Folsom Prison Blues
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CONTACT | communicate with (someone), typically in order to give or receive specific information |
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"Hello?"
"This is an automated message from the Green River County Detention Center. Are you willing to accept a collect call from 'Sam Winchester'? Press one to accept, two to - " Beep sounded as ONE was pressed firmly.
"Hello, Travis?"
"Sam, are you ok?"
"I'm fine. My brother is an idiot, but I'm fine."
"You're in prison…?"
"Yeah, long story. Short version is, Dean's an idiot. This was a stupid idea in a long and storied career of stupid ideas." Sam blew out a breath, then mimicked his brother, "Sammy. It's just a job, and we owe the guy. What could go wrong?" He could hear Sam taking deep breaths to calm himself. "Sorry, I can't really explain, I just wanted you to know you won't hear from us for a little bit and not to worry…"
"I have to say, this conversation is making me extremely worried, Sam." Travis interrupted, "Do you need a lawyer?"
"Nah, we have a public defender. She's actually pretty good, not that it'll be necessary." Sam sounded unconcerned, like he was talking about a trip to the store, not the possibility of spending years locked up. "Listen Travis, this is something to do with our usual stuff, and we've got it covered. I wouldn't have called at all, only Izzy was expecting me to call yesterday…"
"Yes, she mentioned she hadn't heard from you. Sam, is Dean - "
"He's in here too. Well, he's currently in solitary, but he's fine." Travis heard some murmuring in the background and then Sam was saying, "Hey, I gotta go. Give our love to Izzy and try not to worry."
Travis stared at the phone as it disconnected, worrying about what the boys had gotten themselves into and what the possible fallout from this latest escapade would be. He decided maybe he wouldn't share all the details with Izzy just yet…hopefully they would hear from the boys in a few days that all was well.
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REBOUND | (of an event or situation) have an unexpected adverse consequence for someone |
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"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Travis McCormick?"
"Speaking."
"Mr. McCormick, this is Agent Victor Henriksen, FBI."
Travis' heart pounded, and he took a deep breath to slow his racing pulse before responding, "Yes, Agent, what can I do for you?"
"You can tell me what your relationship is with the Winchester brothers."
Travis thankfully had been thinking about this scenario ever since he'd known the boys had been in the correctional facility. Sam had called once they were free to let him know, and had mentioned that they were having to lay low. He had apologized profusely for his 'mistake', as he called it, in calling him from the prison. "It was a dumb slip-up," he'd said contritely. "I know they monitor all calls, and by calling you I've put you on their radar. Dean's already read me the riot act. It's very likely you will hear from an FBI guy, Henriksen. He's like a bulldog with a bone about us. We'll probably need to keep our distance for a while, and you'll need a plausible reason for why I would have called you. Here's what I'm thinking…"
"Winchesters…oh, yeah, Sam and Dean, right? Well, my wife and I met them when we hired them to do some work on our farm. Seemed like nice boys. She took a shine to them…she's always trying to mother strays…so gave them a call to check up on them. Sam called from prison to let her know he was ok. I suspect he was hoping I might try to post bail or something, but I don't know them that well."
"Sam said they were working a job. Do you know what that would be?"
"I'm not sure. I was under the impression they did odd jobs…handyman type things. Not really sure though."
He could hear Henriksen blow out a breath in frustration. "Have either of them contacted you again?"
"No sir. I doubt they will. They're in prison, aren't they?"
"They escaped."
"What!" Travis exclaimed, trying to infuse a sense of worry into his voice, "Do we need to be concerned?"
"They are clever and devious…I doubt they will head anywhere they think I'd look, so I'm guessing you're safe. Be advised, however, those 'nice boys' are criminals and suspected murderers. You hear from them again, you contact me immediately. Don't try to tussle with them yourselves."
"Of course Agent. Give me your number, and I'll be sure to call if they make contact."
"Thank you." Henriksen hung up, muttering "Daft old man. Didn't know he had murdering psychopaths staying with them. Idiot."
Travis hung up and immediately grabbed the burner phone Sam had mailed him. "Sam, hey, it's Travis. Just had a conversation with your bulldog Henriksen… No, I don't think he suspects us… Relax son, we're fine. You aren't getting rid of us that easily! … No, I just wanted you to know he had called. You boys stay safe and keep your heads down now, ok? Izzy sends her love. Ok, bye."
Travis shook his head, hoping that was the end of the troubles with Henriksen, but suspecting it was unlikely to be that easy. He sent a swift prayer heaven-ward that the boys would stay safe and hidden, and that their trail would go cold quickly so they could be reunited again soon.