Quotes from Christa Faust

Although Walter was the first to admit that his own memory wasn't the best—that he forgot people's names all the time even when he'd been introduced more than once—he

He found himself struck by a sudden fear that something might happen to him in the future that would destroy his memory. Some kind of disease or mental breakdown.

Walter suddenly became aware of a strange chill seeping into his lower body.

Walter was all alone in a huge, empty room with no windows.

In fact, the idea of being locked in a small room seemed kind of comforting. Almost womblike in a strange way.

You know, Dean said, gesturing with his uninjured hand. If we were in an action movie, this would be the scene where you tenderly dress my wounds. then the wailing guitar ballad would kick in and we'd end up rolling around on the bed in a slow motion montage. If I were in Q, The Winged Serpent, Xochi replied, this would be the scene where I sacrifice you to Quetzalcoatl.

Dean had never quite imagined his life might end like this. Naked in a Tijuana brothel with an eighty-year-old woman dressed like Janine from Spinal Tap sizing up his junk and looking distinctly unimpressed. He really wished the room wasn't so heavily air-conditioned.

Eventually, morning came instead of bad guys. That was the thing about mornings. No matter how fucked up your life got, how deep and black your despair, how sure you were that you just couldn't take another second of this shit, morning just kept on coming. Over and over. Morning didn't give a damn about your little drama.

Hell's a dry heat too. It still sucks. Let me know if you pull anything. I'm gonna go get a cold beer and pour it down my pants.

Give me one of those bottles of water. My mouth tastes like demon ass.-Dean

I hate malls. They're like strip clubs for women. All tease and sparkle and the empty promise that if you just drop enough cash, somehow you'll be fulfilled.

His name was Winchester. John Winchester.

She had to do something. Anything. She had to focus, think, fight. She wasn't anybody's point to prove. She was fucking Batgirl. Her body was broken and her mind jagged and fractured by trauma, but she was still alive, and she wasn't going down without a fight.

No disrespect to your people, but we're not going to San Francisco here. I ain't wearing any flowers in my hair, Dean said.

But this vast empty room was the loneliest, most awful place he had ever been. Its

His mind immediately seized on this metaphor and when he looked down at his wet hands he saw that they had taken on the elongated, dual clawed form of an ant's bristly pretarsus.

It's not real. The image of his creepy ant-hands was nothing more than a standard, slightly silly hallucination.

The water around his legs was the only thing that seemed real.

Belly?" he called. "Belly, are you here?

It seemed impossible that their first use of that particular blend had evoked such a power empathic connection, and yet this time, Walter was off on his own disconnected trip, unable to even see his friend.

Where the hell is Nina?

But she wasn't there, leaving the unarmed Walter alone and unprotected.

Nina," he said. "Nina, I hope that you can hear me. I'm going to do my best to verbalize what I'm experiencing.

I seem to be inside a kind of artificial environment. Almost like a... a simulacrum of Reiden Lake.