Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
collegedropout) wrote2013-08-12 09:53 pm
collegedropout) wrote2013-08-12 09:53 pm
Entry tags:
IC Contact.
"This is Sam -- just leave a message, I'll get back to you."
"This is Sam -- just leave a message, I'll get back to you."
[Well whoopie for you, you sure got it.]
Well, good. We've got enough to worry about half the time.
[After the unfortunate encounter with someone who looked and sounded like Azazel, Dean has a stab wound that he needs to get stitched. He tried to do it himself, but the angle is too awkward for him to do a decent job of it. Since it isn't serious enough to bother Cas, Dean decides to text Sam.]
you busy?
you busy?
Oh yeah, chock full of important stuff to do.
[Seriously Dean, when's the last time he replied to that question oh, no, I'm super busy, sorry. And don't even try to snarkily bracket something about the year with a girl, I will punt you.]
What's up? Something wrong?
[Seriously Dean, when's the last time he replied to that question oh, no, I'm super busy, sorry. And don't even try to snarkily bracket something about the year with a girl, I will punt you.]
What's up? Something wrong?
[Dude, you could be busy with your books or your animal hoarding ways. Give him points for being a little considerate.]
i need stitches
[And Dean's a little annoyed about it because between this event and rescuing Cas, he's losing a lot of clothes to bloodstains. It isn't like he can head on out to a store to easily replace them.]
i need stitches
[And Dean's a little annoyed about it because between this event and rescuing Cas, he's losing a lot of clothes to bloodstains. It isn't like he can head on out to a store to easily replace them.]
[..........
dammit dean he's gone for one fucking day]
I'm guessing it's not from falling on something pointy.
I'll be there in 10.
How bad?
dammit dean he's gone for one fucking day]
I'm guessing it's not from falling on something pointy.
I'll be there in 10.
How bad?
That tells me absolutely nothing, all things considered.
[Seriously Dean, you've been internally hemorrhaging before in the past, give him something better to work on than your macho thing.]
[Seriously Dean, you've been internally hemorrhaging before in the past, give him something better to work on than your macho thing.]
[THE BIGGEST EYEROLL EVER.
JUST A SCRATCH, YEAH, OKAY.]
Just sit tight
don't pick at it.
[That was only just a joke, but it maybe isn't one, too. He's already making his way from the old apartment he's nesting in, moving at a quick pace back toward the Temple; he can't help but feel a little bad about leaving now, but... well. He was punching people and trying to stab them.
He walks in carefully, keeping an eye out for where Dean might be.]
JUST A SCRATCH, YEAH, OKAY.]
Just sit tight
don't pick at it.
[That was only just a joke, but it maybe isn't one, too. He's already making his way from the old apartment he's nesting in, moving at a quick pace back toward the Temple; he can't help but feel a little bad about leaving now, but... well. He was punching people and trying to stab them.
He walks in carefully, keeping an eye out for where Dean might be.]
[COMPARATIVELY SPEAKING, OKAY.
Dean waits. It isn't bleeding as heavily anymore, but he keeps pressure on it all the same, his shirt folded up and pressing on the wound. He's in his room, sitting on his bed, and when Sam arrives, he looks up at him —
and sees Lisa.
His eyes linger on Lisa's face for a long moment. It's been a long time since he's seen her, but that wound — the pain of what he did to her, the trouble he caused her, their ultimate parting, after everything she had done for him — feels freshly torn now. He almost wants to make a joke about it — a comment about how he told Sam to never bring up Lisa and Ben again, and this counts as bringing it up, but he can't make himself do it.
Finally, he looks away. Clears his throat.]
This was a bad idea.
Dean waits. It isn't bleeding as heavily anymore, but he keeps pressure on it all the same, his shirt folded up and pressing on the wound. He's in his room, sitting on his bed, and when Sam arrives, he looks up at him —
and sees Lisa.
His eyes linger on Lisa's face for a long moment. It's been a long time since he's seen her, but that wound — the pain of what he did to her, the trouble he caused her, their ultimate parting, after everything she had done for him — feels freshly torn now. He almost wants to make a joke about it — a comment about how he told Sam to never bring up Lisa and Ben again, and this counts as bringing it up, but he can't make himself do it.
Finally, he looks away. Clears his throat.]
This was a bad idea.
["Hiya, Sammy."
Sam-turned-Lisa immediately frowns, looking uncomfortable; Gordon the vampire, huh? Sitting with barb wire curled around his neck, eyes red and intense, blood all over him; Sam can see a wound, though, that doesn't match. Can actually see where the illusion breaks down a bit. He looks down at his feet for a moment, unsure if Dean can even see him. He thinks maybe he can hear a faint, muffled echo, something familiar to Dean. Maybe. He rubs the back of his neck, and suddenly the illusion of Lisa is a little less obvious, even with her voice.]
I don't think I can hear you. You're kind of wearing Gordon, there.
["Sam, Sam, Sam. Don't you want to talk? We have a lot to catch up on." Sam ignores it, trying to focus. Gordon turns his head away, and his throat moves like he clears it, and Sam squints, trying to pick up on the little nuances that make it look... weird.]
But, uh. I think I can still do it. You're moving like -- you still.
Sam-turned-Lisa immediately frowns, looking uncomfortable; Gordon the vampire, huh? Sitting with barb wire curled around his neck, eyes red and intense, blood all over him; Sam can see a wound, though, that doesn't match. Can actually see where the illusion breaks down a bit. He looks down at his feet for a moment, unsure if Dean can even see him. He thinks maybe he can hear a faint, muffled echo, something familiar to Dean. Maybe. He rubs the back of his neck, and suddenly the illusion of Lisa is a little less obvious, even with her voice.]
I don't think I can hear you. You're kind of wearing Gordon, there.
["Sam, Sam, Sam. Don't you want to talk? We have a lot to catch up on." Sam ignores it, trying to focus. Gordon turns his head away, and his throat moves like he clears it, and Sam squints, trying to pick up on the little nuances that make it look... weird.]
But, uh. I think I can still do it. You're moving like -- you still.
[Gordon is better than Lucifer or Michael, but that doesn't mean that Dean wants to put Sam through this, especially if he isn't hearing him, but is hearing Gordon say who knows what instead. And Dean doesn't want to look at Lisa or hear Lisa's voice. That chapter closed for him the moment he left that hospital, and it isn't one he wants reopened in any capacity. Even if Lisa's mannerisms are actually Sam's.]
Forget it.
[The wound isn't even that bad, and maybe Dean'll see Cas around at some point to fix it. But Sam probably can't hear him, so Dean shakes his head and rubs a hand over his face. No, Sammy. They aren't doing this.
Keeping the cloth against his wound, he picks up the supplies he has set out on the bed and makes a move to walk past the illusion of Lisa and leave. He'll stitch the thing up himself even if it means doing a shitty job.]
Forget it.
[The wound isn't even that bad, and maybe Dean'll see Cas around at some point to fix it. But Sam probably can't hear him, so Dean shakes his head and rubs a hand over his face. No, Sammy. They aren't doing this.
Keeping the cloth against his wound, he picks up the supplies he has set out on the bed and makes a move to walk past the illusion of Lisa and leave. He'll stitch the thing up himself even if it means doing a shitty job.]
[Sam puts a hand out, stopping Dean. Gordon. Dean. Whatever.]
Dean. I got this. Just — sit down.
[There's a pause.]
Please?
[Because in a way, it's sort of like making up for stabbing you before. He never got a chance to make up for that, and that sucks; sucks to know he hurt you and never made amends, because you know he would. 100%. "What the hell are you talking about, Sam? All that demon blood in your veins finally going to your head?" He looks a little distracted, but his focus immediately zones in again.]
I'll stitch it up quick. You can stare at a wall or something.
["I mean, was I right or was I right? Deano didn't believe you'd go darkside and try to break the world."]
Dean. I got this. Just — sit down.
[There's a pause.]
Please?
[Because in a way, it's sort of like making up for stabbing you before. He never got a chance to make up for that, and that sucks; sucks to know he hurt you and never made amends, because you know he would. 100%. "What the hell are you talking about, Sam? All that demon blood in your veins finally going to your head?" He looks a little distracted, but his focus immediately zones in again.]
I'll stitch it up quick. You can stare at a wall or something.
["I mean, was I right or was I right? Deano didn't believe you'd go darkside and try to break the world."]
[Dean hesitates — thinking about how fucked up it is to hear Sam asking please in Lisa's voice like that. And since this is right on the heels of his encounter with the illusion of Azazel, Dean's feeling pretty on edge.
He lets out an audible breath and then moves back to the bed. He sets down the supplies and takes a seat. Doesn't bother saying anything this time, since Sam can't hear it anyway — just removes the cloth and gestures to his wound. By all means, even if he thinks it's stupid for either of them to put themselves through this.
The wound itself really isn't all that bad. He was stabbed with a throwing knife, but nothing pertinent was nicked in the process — it pretty much just needs to be closed up. He moves his arm so that it isn't in the way and Sam can get to work.
He glances at Lisa's — Sam's — face, then takes Sam's advice and directs his attention at the wall.]
He lets out an audible breath and then moves back to the bed. He sets down the supplies and takes a seat. Doesn't bother saying anything this time, since Sam can't hear it anyway — just removes the cloth and gestures to his wound. By all means, even if he thinks it's stupid for either of them to put themselves through this.
The wound itself really isn't all that bad. He was stabbed with a throwing knife, but nothing pertinent was nicked in the process — it pretty much just needs to be closed up. He moves his arm so that it isn't in the way and Sam can get to work.
He glances at Lisa's — Sam's — face, then takes Sam's advice and directs his attention at the wall.]
[Sam winces and starts to thread needle, pressing it to skin and seeing if there's any change — nope, it's the usual reaction. A twitch, faint, controlled. He starts to carefully piece his brother together, fingers wetting a bit with blood. The illusion makes no move that Dean doesn't, but the face is all Gordon, all smug and satisfied by something.
"Stitching up your enemies? Only fair, after you popped my head off before I could properly get rid of you." Sam focuses on the stitches, but he listens, anyway. "Don't you get it, Sam? I know everything; heard about you whoring yourself out to some demon. Heard you got juiced up and turned into a hunter's wet dream." Gordon pauses and smiles a bit more broadly. "Devil wore you to the big dance. Too bad you have a crappy two-step."
Sam's jaw flexes a bit, but it smooths out once he's got a pace to his sewing.]
This event friggin' sucks.
[It's whispered low, annoyed, but he leaves it at that. Dean probably doesn't want to hear whoever he's looking like. Must be someone not so bad, though, if he agreed to stay in the room.]
"Stitching up your enemies? Only fair, after you popped my head off before I could properly get rid of you." Sam focuses on the stitches, but he listens, anyway. "Don't you get it, Sam? I know everything; heard about you whoring yourself out to some demon. Heard you got juiced up and turned into a hunter's wet dream." Gordon pauses and smiles a bit more broadly. "Devil wore you to the big dance. Too bad you have a crappy two-step."
Sam's jaw flexes a bit, but it smooths out once he's got a pace to his sewing.]
This event friggin' sucks.
[It's whispered low, annoyed, but he leaves it at that. Dean probably doesn't want to hear whoever he's looking like. Must be someone not so bad, though, if he agreed to stay in the room.]
[Though Dean keeps his attention directed at the wall, he's a little disturbed when Lisa — Sam — touches him, knowing that it isn't really her (it's his brother, and that's just weird), and after having resigned himself to never being near her again. He has to resist the desire to shift uncomfortably, and that's not even from feeling the sensation of the needle threading through his skin.
The comment helps a little, though. It's in Lisa's voice, which, as Sam surmises, Dean would prefer not to hear, but it isn't a very Lisa thing to say. That keeps him rooted in reality.]
Yeah.
[There's no point in saying anything more, though, since it'll all be lost on Sam, so Dean just stays still and lets him finish. The quicker they can part ways, the better — for both of them.]
The comment helps a little, though. It's in Lisa's voice, which, as Sam surmises, Dean would prefer not to hear, but it isn't a very Lisa thing to say. That keeps him rooted in reality.]
Yeah.
[There's no point in saying anything more, though, since it'll all be lost on Sam, so Dean just stays still and lets him finish. The quicker they can part ways, the better — for both of them.]
["It's not so bad. At least we get to talk about how you're a psychopathic killer on the inside," Gordon continues, "That, or you're just incredibly deadly to stand around. How else do you kill your girlfriend, your father, your brother, all your friends -- just by existing? That's pretty bad, I got to say. And that thing where you left your brother to rot, whewwww. Man, I thought you gave me grief about my bloodsucking sister."
He gives pause, hand hovering over the nearly finished stitch job though his expression is neutral -- it's only a moment before he finishes it up, quiet and sure-handed. There. He clips the suture and wipes his hands, blood dried on them.]
Okay.
[That's all he offers, but he gets up, moves to pull a piece of paper out of his pocket to place it quietly on the first aid kit. It says, 'Saw you outside Sunday. You saw me as someone. Don't know who, though. Didn't make much sense out of it, don't think you heard me right. Just wanted to let you know so you didn't wonder.' He figured he could leave an explanation of that, since... well, it must've been weird and unnerving, not knowing who was listening.
Still wiping his hands, he goes to leave.
At least he got to help a little.]
He gives pause, hand hovering over the nearly finished stitch job though his expression is neutral -- it's only a moment before he finishes it up, quiet and sure-handed. There. He clips the suture and wipes his hands, blood dried on them.]
Okay.
[That's all he offers, but he gets up, moves to pull a piece of paper out of his pocket to place it quietly on the first aid kit. It says, 'Saw you outside Sunday. You saw me as someone. Don't know who, though. Didn't make much sense out of it, don't think you heard me right. Just wanted to let you know so you didn't wonder.' He figured he could leave an explanation of that, since... well, it must've been weird and unnerving, not knowing who was listening.
Still wiping his hands, he goes to leave.
At least he got to help a little.]
[Dean notices the pause, but there's no point in saying anything about it. He risks another look at Sam's face — still Lisa, of course, and it's hard to tell what Sam is thinking when it's someone else he's seeing — but Sam goes back to work and then finishes.]
Thanks.
[Not that Sam will hear it. If this happens again, though, Dean isn't calling Sam back. Better to just suck it up and deal than put Sam through whatever it is he's being forced to listen to.
Dean takes up the note and reads it as Sam's leaving — and then looks back up, but Sam's already gone. Not that having a conversation about this would work, given what they're dealing with — and not that Dean wants to have a conversation about it, because that's just awkward. Of all people he could mistake for Benny, Sam was the worst, especially considering the conversation he had been trying to have.
He thinks about the things that Sam-as-Benny said to him, wondering if that actually came from Sam himself — but judging by the note, that's not the case.
Which means Dean can pretty much shelf this and he and Sam can just never bring it up again — leave the awkward situation behind them without drawing any more attention to it.]
Thanks.
[Not that Sam will hear it. If this happens again, though, Dean isn't calling Sam back. Better to just suck it up and deal than put Sam through whatever it is he's being forced to listen to.
Dean takes up the note and reads it as Sam's leaving — and then looks back up, but Sam's already gone. Not that having a conversation about this would work, given what they're dealing with — and not that Dean wants to have a conversation about it, because that's just awkward. Of all people he could mistake for Benny, Sam was the worst, especially considering the conversation he had been trying to have.
He thinks about the things that Sam-as-Benny said to him, wondering if that actually came from Sam himself — but judging by the note, that's not the case.
Which means Dean can pretty much shelf this and he and Sam can just never bring it up again — leave the awkward situation behind them without drawing any more attention to it.]
[Dean can tell that Sam is still upset — thanks to the way he's been keeping their interaction to a minimum since the event ended. Truth be told, Dean doesn't mind the extra space. The event was pretty rough for him, between getting stabbed a couple of times and seeing people and demons from Winchester past showing up left and right.
It isn't as easy for him and Sam to set their disagreements to the side here in Adstringendum as it was back home. Back there, they were often put in a position where they had no choice but to communicate for the job — and because they were stuck in a vehicle so much of the time. Here, there's nothing forcing them to communicate beyond bare necessity, which means that Dean has to put an end to this himself.
He heads out of the Temple in search of Sam, planning to hit up some of Sam's main haunts. He finds him pretty quickly, though, not too far from the building, with a nice little area of paper targets with drawn-on bullseyes set up for bow practice. He watches for a moment, assessing Sam's form, and then he walks up to him.
Dean doesn't even acknowledge that things have been a little rocky — just jumps right in like it's business as usual.]
Nice shot, Legolas.
[Get it — 'cause your hair is kind of long and you're using a bow.]
It almost looks like you have a chance at beating me.
It isn't as easy for him and Sam to set their disagreements to the side here in Adstringendum as it was back home. Back there, they were often put in a position where they had no choice but to communicate for the job — and because they were stuck in a vehicle so much of the time. Here, there's nothing forcing them to communicate beyond bare necessity, which means that Dean has to put an end to this himself.
He heads out of the Temple in search of Sam, planning to hit up some of Sam's main haunts. He finds him pretty quickly, though, not too far from the building, with a nice little area of paper targets with drawn-on bullseyes set up for bow practice. He watches for a moment, assessing Sam's form, and then he walks up to him.
Dean doesn't even acknowledge that things have been a little rocky — just jumps right in like it's business as usual.]
Nice shot, Legolas.
[Get it — 'cause your hair is kind of long and you're using a bow.]
It almost looks like you have a chance at beating me.
Edited 2013-10-16 00:47 (UTC)
[Castiel is oblivious to a lot of social interaction, but he isn't that clueless; certainly not enough to miss the tension between two of the people he is most attuned to the moods of.
He's hesitated to mention it, but it's insufferable, and it's concerning as well; whenever they get like this it's usually because someone is hiding something or did something seriously stupid, and whichever it is Castiel wants to know. He's guessing it has to do with the conversations with Crowley, which is just more worrying.
He decides, finally, to seek out Sam instead of Dean, as he thinks he's more likely to get an answer from him. When he finds him, he frowns seriously at his friend for a few moments before just getting to the point.]
Are you angry with Dean?
He's hesitated to mention it, but it's insufferable, and it's concerning as well; whenever they get like this it's usually because someone is hiding something or did something seriously stupid, and whichever it is Castiel wants to know. He's guessing it has to do with the conversations with Crowley, which is just more worrying.
He decides, finally, to seek out Sam instead of Dean, as he thinks he's more likely to get an answer from him. When he finds him, he frowns seriously at his friend for a few moments before just getting to the point.]
Are you angry with Dean?
[Sam's not exactly surprised Castiel's coming over to talk to him about it; yeah, it's obvious, and the air is so heavy that even Riot is trying to avoid them in the same room together, which is hardly frequent. Sam's consuming the last of the jar of honey Akito had given him with his drink, finding it soothing for his slightly ragged throat. Apparently, getting pissed off and yelling at your brother doesn't do wonders for the esophagus. Who'd a thunk it.
He lowers his drink and frowns a bit, in that pensive way he tends to do.]
We're both angry at each other, yeah.
[And because Cas deserved to know, Cas is certainly right to think Sam would at least give him an accurate summary of that mess.]
Dean tried to go meet Crowley somewhere to pick a fight, Crowley agreed with all intent to kill. I told him if he went and pulled something like that by himself and with no clear reason, I'd ignore what he wanted and would either finish the trials or make a deal that Crowley could kill me off in the case of a broken truce.
He's pissed, I'm pissed, the world keeps spinning.
[And then he calmly, if not with silent, tired exasperation, drinks some of his honey-laced tea.
Do we have any snacks.]
He lowers his drink and frowns a bit, in that pensive way he tends to do.]
We're both angry at each other, yeah.
[And because Cas deserved to know, Cas is certainly right to think Sam would at least give him an accurate summary of that mess.]
Dean tried to go meet Crowley somewhere to pick a fight, Crowley agreed with all intent to kill. I told him if he went and pulled something like that by himself and with no clear reason, I'd ignore what he wanted and would either finish the trials or make a deal that Crowley could kill me off in the case of a broken truce.
He's pissed, I'm pissed, the world keeps spinning.
[And then he calmly, if not with silent, tired exasperation, drinks some of his honey-laced tea.
Do we have any snacks.]
You sure? I don't think that'd fit into your 'dream world'.
[Said straight-faced, with all the petulance of a Winchester Trait, as he lets and arrow fly and hits beside the bullseye, the drawback so tightly clenched that it burrows heavily into the bark; his fingers are pretty abused from all the practice over the weeks, but he's starting to really get into the method of it. And hey, it's a great way to burn off energy while being completely unmoving and focused.
He reaches for another arrow, giving Dean a less-than-enthused look. Bitchfacey, if I do say so myself. He at least doesn't tell him to back off or stop trying to play 'nice', anyway. Because hell if Sam's any good at telling Dean to leave. He focuses back on the target, aiming again, not casting another look Dean's way.]
There are a lot of people around who know how to shoot. It's been helpful.
[Said straight-faced, with all the petulance of a Winchester Trait, as he lets and arrow fly and hits beside the bullseye, the drawback so tightly clenched that it burrows heavily into the bark; his fingers are pretty abused from all the practice over the weeks, but he's starting to really get into the method of it. And hey, it's a great way to burn off energy while being completely unmoving and focused.
He reaches for another arrow, giving Dean a less-than-enthused look. Bitchfacey, if I do say so myself. He at least doesn't tell him to back off or stop trying to play 'nice', anyway. Because hell if Sam's any good at telling Dean to leave. He focuses back on the target, aiming again, not casting another look Dean's way.]
There are a lot of people around who know how to shoot. It's been helpful.
[Dean's smile falters a little at that, because really? He's trying to play nice here. The sass and bitchfacing is unnecessary. That happened days ago, and he believes he had a point, considering how Sam was pushing aspects of Riot's care on him.
He takes it in stride, though, since he isn't keen on prolonging that disagreement, or the silence that's been existing between him and Sam. They need to stay focused on more important things, like getting out of this place and bringing down the Animus. And, of course, having an archery competition. They can't get sidelined by all their bickering.
They're Winchesters. Fighting has never stopped them from being able to accomplish a task, and it sure as hell isn't going do that now.]
You're right. 'Cause that [He points to the target] shows me you're about to lose.
[Close but no cigar, Sammy. That ain't a bullseye, which means you better hurry up and improve or you're about to lose.]
Go get your arrows. We're doing this now.
He takes it in stride, though, since he isn't keen on prolonging that disagreement, or the silence that's been existing between him and Sam. They need to stay focused on more important things, like getting out of this place and bringing down the Animus. And, of course, having an archery competition. They can't get sidelined by all their bickering.
They're Winchesters. Fighting has never stopped them from being able to accomplish a task, and it sure as hell isn't going do that now.]
You're right. 'Cause that [He points to the target] shows me you're about to lose.
[Close but no cigar, Sammy. That ain't a bullseye, which means you better hurry up and improve or you're about to lose.]
Go get your arrows. We're doing this now.
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