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."
[Again with the shout-out to the past, Dean? Yeah, that's him, Mr. Shitty Choices. And as much as he wants to argue that... yeah, looking in a mystery door without thinking 'gee, maybe this shit is worse than you think it'll be' is all his dumbass fault. He shrugs his arms out, drops them, surrenders.]
I didn't know. It was just -- some door with your name. One of the first I even ran into.
Hell, I wasn't even sure if it was just a memory or if you were -- stuck in some loop.
[And it was scary to think. Fuck the torturing, Sam had accepted Dean as he was, knew he'd been fucked over by Hell; that was just his brother, fighting to survive in a horrible place. Haunting and sad and miserable, yeah, but he knew Dean had a worse opinion of himself than Sam did. Tended to happen.]
M'sorry.
I didn't know. It was just -- some door with your name. One of the first I even ran into.
Hell, I wasn't even sure if it was just a memory or if you were -- stuck in some loop.
[And it was scary to think. Fuck the torturing, Sam had accepted Dean as he was, knew he'd been fucked over by Hell; that was just his brother, fighting to survive in a horrible place. Haunting and sad and miserable, yeah, but he knew Dean had a worse opinion of himself than Sam did. Tended to happen.]
M'sorry.
You couldn't call?
[That should have been his first thought - oh hey, a door with Dean's name on it, better give him a call and see if he knows what's up.
But really, Dean's anger is misplaced. It stems less from the action and more from the fact that Sam had to see that at all - and it's exasperated by everything else that has been going on.
He shakes his head.]
Don't.
[Don't talk about it, don't even hint at it.]
[That should have been his first thought - oh hey, a door with Dean's name on it, better give him a call and see if he knows what's up.
But really, Dean's anger is misplaced. It stems less from the action and more from the fact that Sam had to see that at all - and it's exasperated by everything else that has been going on.
He shakes his head.]
Don't.
[Don't talk about it, don't even hint at it.]
Fine.
[Usually, he pushes. Back when they were young, he pushed a lot. Now that he's just as mentally fucked up -- hell, more fucked up, too fucked up -- he understands just... pushing it down. So he just stands like a overgrown kid being lectured. Frankly, he's tired. Too tired to argue against an absolutely valid point Dean's making. He underestimated this place for a moment. Which was stupid, because he knew it was awful, but this? This is... not what he expected.]
I blanked. It was a mistake and I should've known better. I fucked up.
Thought I should just let you know anyway. And I get why you'd be pissed, too. It wasn't my place to see that. So. I'm gonna go watch my door until it decides to -- do whatever the hell magic doors do to go away.
[Great, cool. Glad we had this talk. A+ break.
He turns and starts away, feeling plenty miserable about all this.]
[Usually, he pushes. Back when they were young, he pushed a lot. Now that he's just as mentally fucked up -- hell, more fucked up, too fucked up -- he understands just... pushing it down. So he just stands like a overgrown kid being lectured. Frankly, he's tired. Too tired to argue against an absolutely valid point Dean's making. He underestimated this place for a moment. Which was stupid, because he knew it was awful, but this? This is... not what he expected.]
I blanked. It was a mistake and I should've known better. I fucked up.
Thought I should just let you know anyway. And I get why you'd be pissed, too. It wasn't my place to see that. So. I'm gonna go watch my door until it decides to -- do whatever the hell magic doors do to go away.
[Great, cool. Glad we had this talk. A+ break.
He turns and starts away, feeling plenty miserable about all this.]
Edited 2013-08-30 03:33 (UTC)
[This would be a good opportunity for Dean to come clean about Sam's door, but he doesn't. Leaves it unsaid, because it's bad enough that Sam has had to see him at his worst. Dean doesn't want to recount the way he held Sam as he fell to pieces, the way he sat and ate with a Sam that had a stable home life. Doesn't want to admit that he walked out of there feeling raw and exhausted.
But as Sam turns away, Dean can't help but feel guilty over all of it - his biting comments, when he knows Sam's been dealing with his own shit, and the fact that he made the same mistake he's on Sam's case about.
They just...need to get out of this place. Get back home and focus on the trials again.
After Sam has taken a few steps, Dean calls out to him.]
Wait.
Fuck the doors. Let's go find a drink somewhere.
[Or a meal. He hasn't eaten and he figures Sam hasn't either.
And this is how Dean wants to deal with all of this. Forget what happened, forget what we saw. Let's just go do something somewhat normal for a while. Take that break. A veiled, if late, kind of acceptance of what Sam told him.
It's not as though Dean's door has been free of prying eyes, anyway.]
But as Sam turns away, Dean can't help but feel guilty over all of it - his biting comments, when he knows Sam's been dealing with his own shit, and the fact that he made the same mistake he's on Sam's case about.
They just...need to get out of this place. Get back home and focus on the trials again.
After Sam has taken a few steps, Dean calls out to him.]
Wait.
Fuck the doors. Let's go find a drink somewhere.
[Or a meal. He hasn't eaten and he figures Sam hasn't either.
And this is how Dean wants to deal with all of this. Forget what happened, forget what we saw. Let's just go do something somewhat normal for a while. Take that break. A veiled, if late, kind of acceptance of what Sam told him.
It's not as though Dean's door has been free of prying eyes, anyway.]
[He's not even surprised. Mad at your brother and you invite him for a beer. He'd look at that more fondly if not for the fact that it typically means Sam's done something wrong and Dean's trying to coax a normal day back from it.]
I don't know, man. [He turns, sighing exasperatedly, hands still tucked in his pockets.] Some pretty ugly stuff in my door. I don't want some kid wandering in and having to deal with -- door-me.
[But eating's kind of important. Would be nice. He's kind of torn here. And a nap. A nap would be good. Between this and Sarah's probable death and being displaced with a unhappy brother and weird unfinished thing in his blood... kinda makes his bones hurt.]
What, you track down liquor?
I don't know, man. [He turns, sighing exasperatedly, hands still tucked in his pockets.] Some pretty ugly stuff in my door. I don't want some kid wandering in and having to deal with -- door-me.
[But eating's kind of important. Would be nice. He's kind of torn here. And a nap. A nap would be good. Between this and Sarah's probable death and being displaced with a unhappy brother and weird unfinished thing in his blood... kinda makes his bones hurt.]
What, you track down liquor?
We'll be quick. Couple hours tops.
[Dean doesn't want to leave his door for too long, either, but he figures he and Sam can both use something like this. In fact, it's overdue, even without the past day or so of this crap.]
Yeah, there's actually a bar. No beer, though.
[Dean doesn't want to leave his door for too long, either, but he figures he and Sam can both use something like this. In fact, it's overdue, even without the past day or so of this crap.]
Yeah, there's actually a bar. No beer, though.
[Leave it to Dean to scope out a bar; it's just one of those places synonymous with a hunter lifestyle. But then leave it to Dean to want to drag Sam somewhere after being upset with him. Somewhere in his brain he thinks maybe he should be indignant at the whiplash, but... Hey, Dean's not livid, and Sam's too emotionally drained to be confused.]
Then lead the way, I guess.
Food would be nice, too; haven't eaten in a while.
[Sam sucks at eating 90% of the time as it is. Since forever.]
Then lead the way, I guess.
Food would be nice, too; haven't eaten in a while.
[Sam sucks at eating 90% of the time as it is. Since forever.]
[Dean has had the misfortune of encountering one of them, and he is well aware that they aren't pleasant if provoked. But...]
I think rabbits'll be the least of our problems out here.
[There's a hint of enthusiasm in his tone as he surveys the Wastes. Hunting just for the sake of hunting shouldn't be appealing - after all, their job is to save people, not kill aimlessly. But trapped as they are here, with monsters they can't hunt and an enemy they can't just go out and face, Dean feels an inner restlessness that is only growing as time passes. He just sucks at settling down and biding his time - something he has already established once before. At least in Purgatory, it was kill or be killed, a constant surge of adrenaline and movement. Here, it's live quietly and hunt down harmless fruit cows for food.
They can't go too far, at least not this first time out, and not if they don't want to deal with the time discrepancies that he heard about. But a little venturing should be enough, so Dean leads them outward, every so often glancing back at the Safezone to gauge their distance. The ground rumbles, and Dean notices some movement far ahead as the Wastes shift yet again.
Something flies overhead. Dean looks up.]
...the hell is -
[There's a loud, disorienting cry, and Dean finds himself stumbling over his next steps. The creature cries out again, and Dean clamps his hands over his ears, whipping around as he does so to check on Sam.]
I think rabbits'll be the least of our problems out here.
[There's a hint of enthusiasm in his tone as he surveys the Wastes. Hunting just for the sake of hunting shouldn't be appealing - after all, their job is to save people, not kill aimlessly. But trapped as they are here, with monsters they can't hunt and an enemy they can't just go out and face, Dean feels an inner restlessness that is only growing as time passes. He just sucks at settling down and biding his time - something he has already established once before. At least in Purgatory, it was kill or be killed, a constant surge of adrenaline and movement. Here, it's live quietly and hunt down harmless fruit cows for food.
They can't go too far, at least not this first time out, and not if they don't want to deal with the time discrepancies that he heard about. But a little venturing should be enough, so Dean leads them outward, every so often glancing back at the Safezone to gauge their distance. The ground rumbles, and Dean notices some movement far ahead as the Wastes shift yet again.
Something flies overhead. Dean looks up.]
...the hell is -
[There's a loud, disorienting cry, and Dean finds himself stumbling over his next steps. The creature cries out again, and Dean clamps his hands over his ears, whipping around as he does so to check on Sam.]
[Dean does just that, pulling out his PCD to get those coordinates up and leading them in that direction.]
Me either.
[And Dean's great at eating, so that says a lot.
He's still pretty irritable, despite his suggestion - at Sam, at Cas, at Rei. But Dean's also a complex mess of other things, too, like guilt and regret and a certain hollow feeling that his door so kindly reminded him existed. And he's concerned about Sam, too, even if it's all incredibly jumbled with anger and a bunch of other complicated feelings, because he knows that door of his is heavy - and can tell that Sam is weighed down.
So as they walk, Dean finally asks:]
Wanna talk about it?
['It' being Sam's door, as Dean's is currently off the table as an acceptable topic.]
Me either.
[And Dean's great at eating, so that says a lot.
He's still pretty irritable, despite his suggestion - at Sam, at Cas, at Rei. But Dean's also a complex mess of other things, too, like guilt and regret and a certain hollow feeling that his door so kindly reminded him existed. And he's concerned about Sam, too, even if it's all incredibly jumbled with anger and a bunch of other complicated feelings, because he knows that door of his is heavy - and can tell that Sam is weighed down.
So as they walk, Dean finally asks:]
Wanna talk about it?
['It' being Sam's door, as Dean's is currently off the table as an acceptable topic.]
[Sam glances at Dean, gives a half-hearted shrug.]
Mr. Anti-Therapy, No-Chick-Moments wants to talk?
[His tone's lighter, trying to stay casual about the whole thing. Because if there's one thing he learned from big bro, it's a.) violence and drinking are great for trauma and b.) keeping it casual like it's no biggy is usually how it works when you feel like shit.]
Nah... Other than the fact that I'm a psychologist's wet dream for poor mental health? It's fine. Nothing I haven't thought long and hard about with or without a literal door or fifty-million me's.
[The visual reminder just hurts, is all. He could've done without.]
It's not important anymore.
Mr. Anti-Therapy, No-Chick-Moments wants to talk?
[His tone's lighter, trying to stay casual about the whole thing. Because if there's one thing he learned from big bro, it's a.) violence and drinking are great for trauma and b.) keeping it casual like it's no biggy is usually how it works when you feel like shit.]
Nah... Other than the fact that I'm a psychologist's wet dream for poor mental health? It's fine. Nothing I haven't thought long and hard about with or without a literal door or fifty-million me's.
[The visual reminder just hurts, is all. He could've done without.]
It's not important anymore.
[It's an accurate enough description. Dean is pretty anti-therapy, and he's never been a fan of chick flick moments. His answer to anything difficult, whether it's dealing with a crazy Cas or a brother who sees hallucinations or even Purgatory, is to ignore his issues and proceed with life - and hunting - as usual. Because it doesn't matter where his head is in the grand scheme of all the shit they face, doesn't matter how he feels, and acknowledging weakness has never worked for him, anyway. Alcohol and a pissy attitude serve him just fine, and eventually, he'll just get over his issues as per usual.
But Sam? Sam has always rode a little closer to the surface, and no matter how pissed Dean may be, or how burned he may feel by Sam's spending time behind his door, Dean still wants to make sure he's okay. It's different, if Sam is the one doing the talking.
And he knows what was behind his door. It may have been a while since Lucifer last had access to Sam's head, but that doesn't mean that taking a peek at Hell won't affect his mental state. Dean may have been fucked up after Hell, but it was nothing compared to spending too long in a cage with Lucifer and Michael. So for Sam to look back into that...well, the last thing they need is for Sam to lose his grip on reality again. Cas may have fixed him, but that doesn't mean there are no scars.]
I just wanna make sure you're okay. There's some crazy stuff behind those doors.
[But Dean won't press, if Sam doesn't want to go into detail. Because even though he doubts it's fine, keeping casual is a coping mechanism Dean understands.]
All the more reason to figure out how to gank the Animus.
[Or ward or bind them. Because this is Dean's answer to trauma induced by the supernatural - put 'em down and move on. He, too, could do without events like this - for good.]
But Sam? Sam has always rode a little closer to the surface, and no matter how pissed Dean may be, or how burned he may feel by Sam's spending time behind his door, Dean still wants to make sure he's okay. It's different, if Sam is the one doing the talking.
And he knows what was behind his door. It may have been a while since Lucifer last had access to Sam's head, but that doesn't mean that taking a peek at Hell won't affect his mental state. Dean may have been fucked up after Hell, but it was nothing compared to spending too long in a cage with Lucifer and Michael. So for Sam to look back into that...well, the last thing they need is for Sam to lose his grip on reality again. Cas may have fixed him, but that doesn't mean there are no scars.]
I just wanna make sure you're okay. There's some crazy stuff behind those doors.
[But Dean won't press, if Sam doesn't want to go into detail. Because even though he doubts it's fine, keeping casual is a coping mechanism Dean understands.]
All the more reason to figure out how to gank the Animus.
[Or ward or bind them. Because this is Dean's answer to trauma induced by the supernatural - put 'em down and move on. He, too, could do without events like this - for good.]
Dean, I'm fine. I'm not going to go Rambo on you or something, if that's what you're worried about.
[He thinks about it. Back then, when he was holding back Hell, trying to be the good kid who falls in line so he didn't trouble his brother; he was putting up a fight, not sweating it, but he could see it in his brother's face -- back then, that look Dean would give sometimes that said Sam would just crash and burn, that he was crazy and doomed to lose his mind. Even until the bitter end, when Sam was near-death from exhaustion... he thought he was handling it pretty well. Was still mostly himself. Even solved a case.
But then, maybe Dean was right. After Castiel and Dean vanished, things fell apart. Maybe he lost his mind a little then; maybe the amount of shit on his plate finally broke him in.
...
He gives Dean a look. Tired, assessing, curious. 'Crazy stuff', right. He plays off a hunch:]
So which Sams did you see?
[Because you're sounding like maybe you did see something, walked into that door yourself. And that's scary, Dean. He couldn't even be bothered to be pissy, either, because not knowing which ones you might've ran into, if Sam is right... There's just some in there he'd rather you never, ever see. Better safe than sorry.]
[He thinks about it. Back then, when he was holding back Hell, trying to be the good kid who falls in line so he didn't trouble his brother; he was putting up a fight, not sweating it, but he could see it in his brother's face -- back then, that look Dean would give sometimes that said Sam would just crash and burn, that he was crazy and doomed to lose his mind. Even until the bitter end, when Sam was near-death from exhaustion... he thought he was handling it pretty well. Was still mostly himself. Even solved a case.
But then, maybe Dean was right. After Castiel and Dean vanished, things fell apart. Maybe he lost his mind a little then; maybe the amount of shit on his plate finally broke him in.
...
He gives Dean a look. Tired, assessing, curious. 'Crazy stuff', right. He plays off a hunch:]
So which Sams did you see?
[Because you're sounding like maybe you did see something, walked into that door yourself. And that's scary, Dean. He couldn't even be bothered to be pissy, either, because not knowing which ones you might've ran into, if Sam is right... There's just some in there he'd rather you never, ever see. Better safe than sorry.]
Edited (edit edit edit shiithrthg) 2013-08-31 21:09 (UTC)
[This is proof that he and Sam spend too much time together. Sam and his perceptive guesswork.
Dean is quiet for a long moment - focused on the path ahead instead of on Sam. He thinks back to what he experienced behind Sam's door - and exhales a tired sigh.
When Rei called him out on entering Castiel's door, he hadn't explained himself - it was none of her business why he had gone in there, and Dean wasn't going to offer up excuses. But that was Rei, a girl who, as far as Dean is concerned, can go screw herself.
In light of Dean's reaction to Sam being in his door, he explains.]
I knew better. I wasn't gonna go in, but I heard you yelling.
[For him - and how was he supposed to ignore that? He should have known, though. Just like Sam should have known to stay out of his door.
As for the rest of it - Dean would rather not discuss it. He doesn't want to recount what happened - how he felt. So Dean does what he does best: makes light of it.]
It was pretty United States of Sam in there, but nothing I couldn't handle.
[If consoling an illusion of his little brother counts as handling it.]
Dean is quiet for a long moment - focused on the path ahead instead of on Sam. He thinks back to what he experienced behind Sam's door - and exhales a tired sigh.
When Rei called him out on entering Castiel's door, he hadn't explained himself - it was none of her business why he had gone in there, and Dean wasn't going to offer up excuses. But that was Rei, a girl who, as far as Dean is concerned, can go screw herself.
In light of Dean's reaction to Sam being in his door, he explains.]
I knew better. I wasn't gonna go in, but I heard you yelling.
[For him - and how was he supposed to ignore that? He should have known, though. Just like Sam should have known to stay out of his door.
As for the rest of it - Dean would rather not discuss it. He doesn't want to recount what happened - how he felt. So Dean does what he does best: makes light of it.]
It was pretty United States of Sam in there, but nothing I couldn't handle.
[If consoling an illusion of his little brother counts as handling it.]
I know.
[Sam shakes his head. Of course. Of course he saw in there, why not?]
I just -- want to know which ones you saw. That's all.
[He doesn't need a step-by-step playthrough, he doesn't need explanations, he just needs to know what Dean had learned. Who he ran into, and what would come from that meeting. That Sam in the panic room? Yeah, Sam kicked him in the ribs -- alone and bitter and angry at the pathetic sight, he couldn't stop himself. He saw demonic Sam and stood there until the other started listing his failures. He saw little Sammy, and he sat with him and finished a puzzle while his mother couldn't see him (not unusual). He sat tiredly and watched blasts from the pasts he wishes would just disappear.
Most of these are embarrassing. Shameful. So very 'Sam'.]
[Sam shakes his head. Of course. Of course he saw in there, why not?]
I just -- want to know which ones you saw. That's all.
[He doesn't need a step-by-step playthrough, he doesn't need explanations, he just needs to know what Dean had learned. Who he ran into, and what would come from that meeting. That Sam in the panic room? Yeah, Sam kicked him in the ribs -- alone and bitter and angry at the pathetic sight, he couldn't stop himself. He saw demonic Sam and stood there until the other started listing his failures. He saw little Sammy, and he sat with him and finished a puzzle while his mother couldn't see him (not unusual). He sat tiredly and watched blasts from the pasts he wishes would just disappear.
Most of these are embarrassing. Shameful. So very 'Sam'.]
[Sam's a mirror image, stumbling over lanky limbs until he backs up defensively against a large rock with a bit of overhang. He peers up toward the sky with a squint, but whatever it was passed over him already, sweeping in a massive circle he couldn't see him here.]
What is that??
[He says it nearly at the same time as Dean speaks, lining up on the dot.]
What is that??
[He says it nearly at the same time as Dean speaks, lining up on the dot.]
[The kid one's not so bad -- but he does momentarily close his eyes on reflex, nodding. It couldn't been worse, he thinks. At least he hadn't had to deal with the uglier ones: with the demonic, ugly one, or Lucifer, or soulless Sam. At least it was still more him than any of those... less monstrous. Doesn't change the fact that him in Hell was pathetic, sad, so smashed up and defeated; doesn't change the shame in his face when he thinks that Dean had seen that.
Well, tit for tat, right?
He clears his throat.]
Not my most proud moment.
... Alright. Fair enough; Hell for Hell.
[And that's it, that's all. He quickly changes the subject.]
Which way am I going, exactly?
Well, tit for tat, right?
He clears his throat.]
Not my most proud moment.
... Alright. Fair enough; Hell for Hell.
[And that's it, that's all. He quickly changes the subject.]
Which way am I going, exactly?
[Hell for Hell. Sam's right - all in all, it's a fair trade, and really, Dean should accept that and move on, but he can't shake the jumbled mess of disappointment and hurt that result from knowing Sam was in his door. If he could have picked one person he could keep from witnessing him like that, it would have been Sam. And if he could have picked the one person he trusted not to enter his door, it would have been Sam.
But that's the thing about time. When it moves on without you, things change. People change. Little brothers run away with girls and forget their responsibilities.
Apparently, angels change too. Not a huge shock there, though.
Dean hands over the PCD so Sam can see where they are going. It's not too much further, and eventually, they settle down at a table in the bar. Dean barters with information, because he has plenty of that now that he's spent some time behind others' doors. It's probably obvious that it's not his first time here, with his easily he acquires the alcohol. He knows how this system works, now.
The stuff he gets for them isn't great, and it's a little on the strong side, but it does the job well. Dean is very liberal about his intake, and several large sips in, he addresses a new topic entirely.]
Do you think Cas is different?
[Not that Cas has ever really been all that stable in personality, but Dean means here specifically.]
Two years is a long time.
[And Dean is currently suffering from some major trust issues. Cas said the whole Lucifer deal was to protect them, but Dean has heard similar explanations from him before. And even though he's pissed at Rei for butting in, maybe she's right. Two and a half years creates a lot of distance - and even at their best, he and Cas have always had their disagreements.]
But that's the thing about time. When it moves on without you, things change. People change. Little brothers run away with girls and forget their responsibilities.
Apparently, angels change too. Not a huge shock there, though.
Dean hands over the PCD so Sam can see where they are going. It's not too much further, and eventually, they settle down at a table in the bar. Dean barters with information, because he has plenty of that now that he's spent some time behind others' doors. It's probably obvious that it's not his first time here, with his easily he acquires the alcohol. He knows how this system works, now.
The stuff he gets for them isn't great, and it's a little on the strong side, but it does the job well. Dean is very liberal about his intake, and several large sips in, he addresses a new topic entirely.]
Do you think Cas is different?
[Not that Cas has ever really been all that stable in personality, but Dean means here specifically.]
Two years is a long time.
[And Dean is currently suffering from some major trust issues. Cas said the whole Lucifer deal was to protect them, but Dean has heard similar explanations from him before. And even though he's pissed at Rei for butting in, maybe she's right. Two and a half years creates a lot of distance - and even at their best, he and Cas have always had their disagreements.]
[Sam glances at Dean, barely able to hold back a few raspy coughs from the horrible crap they're drinking; hey, it's liquor, that's good enough for him. Was Castiel different? Well... he was a little better off, as far as Sam could see. They were pretty worried about him last they saw him, and all. But Sam sees little changes.
He gives a half-hearted shrug. At least this topic wasn't sapping him of energy.]
Two years changes people.
[One year changes people. Like Dean. Like him.]
I think he's a little more grounded, I don't know. Getting used to figuring things out on his own or maybe just learning how to be less Soldier of God.
[He takes another drink.]
... He kinda seems a little more tired, sometimes. I'm guessing being in a place that does stuff like that out there isn't much of a vacation for the soul.
[Sam knows the feeling. He wonders if Dean feels like that. Has to, surely, after everything that's happened. There were days after the Leviathans that Sam could barely force himself to wake up. A lot of days, he thought maybe he just... shouldn't.
Before everyone died or left, he sort of just used some unearthed determination to prove he could keep up and find the spark to continue on, for their sakes, passive suicidal tendencies from insomnia notwithstanding. Nowadays, there's a bone-deep weariness every so often; Amelia understood, because she had that sometimes, too. That crushing weight coupled with a tattered willpower (and soul) that whispered lay back down.
Now that he's hunting again, it resurfaces strong once in a blue moon. Dean's been moving, moving, moving, but Sam? Sam gets tired of it all. Sometimes it's a struggle to keep up with his energy. Dean wouldn't understand nowadays. Sam didn't want to explain. It was better off this way, to spare the further disappointment his brother would throw his way.
But sometimes... he thinks of a warm, clean bed and a green backyard and walking without the intention of leaving it all behind again... Now it's all demons and angels and you're never getting out. He breathes heavy, taking another drink.
Maybe he should've known that. He did know that. And sometimes he reminds himself with something Dean had told him a long time ago, something Sam absorbed and never let go.
What kind of Kool-Aid you drinking, man? Sammy, it ends bloody or sad. That's just the life.]
... Anyway -- why? Something up with Cas?
He gives a half-hearted shrug. At least this topic wasn't sapping him of energy.]
Two years changes people.
[One year changes people. Like Dean. Like him.]
I think he's a little more grounded, I don't know. Getting used to figuring things out on his own or maybe just learning how to be less Soldier of God.
[He takes another drink.]
... He kinda seems a little more tired, sometimes. I'm guessing being in a place that does stuff like that out there isn't much of a vacation for the soul.
[Sam knows the feeling. He wonders if Dean feels like that. Has to, surely, after everything that's happened. There were days after the Leviathans that Sam could barely force himself to wake up. A lot of days, he thought maybe he just... shouldn't.
Before everyone died or left, he sort of just used some unearthed determination to prove he could keep up and find the spark to continue on, for their sakes, passive suicidal tendencies from insomnia notwithstanding. Nowadays, there's a bone-deep weariness every so often; Amelia understood, because she had that sometimes, too. That crushing weight coupled with a tattered willpower (and soul) that whispered lay back down.
Now that he's hunting again, it resurfaces strong once in a blue moon. Dean's been moving, moving, moving, but Sam? Sam gets tired of it all. Sometimes it's a struggle to keep up with his energy. Dean wouldn't understand nowadays. Sam didn't want to explain. It was better off this way, to spare the further disappointment his brother would throw his way.
But sometimes... he thinks of a warm, clean bed and a green backyard and walking without the intention of leaving it all behind again... Now it's all demons and angels and you're never getting out. He breathes heavy, taking another drink.
Maybe he should've known that. He did know that. And sometimes he reminds himself with something Dean had told him a long time ago, something Sam absorbed and never let go.
What kind of Kool-Aid you drinking, man? Sammy, it ends bloody or sad. That's just the life.]
... Anyway -- why? Something up with Cas?
[Dean does feel it, more and more with each passing day here, more than he'd ever let on to Sam or anyone. The truth is, he's getting real tired of getting shipped to strange worlds, and even more tired of being let down time and time again. Both Sam and Cas are here, but Cas has made some questionable choices, and Sam has gone poking in his door - and Dean is just tired of being disappointed by the people for whom he'd fight tooth and nail.
He's tired, and he can't even focus on hunting here - not their kind of hunting - so Dean's been throwing himself into whatever he can - research about the Animus, hunting their meals, anything. Eventually, they'll get home - he still believes that - but they'll just pick up fighting all over again. There is no light at the end of the tunnel - not Dean's tunnel - and the most he can hope for is saving some people and shutting down hell along the way.
Dean shrugs at the question, as though it isn't a huge deal - as if he Cas both hadn't taken some personal digs at each other not too long ago.]
Same old stuff.
[Disagreements and bad choices, and he and Cas can't see eye-to-eye, as usual.]
We better not end up stuck here for two years.
[He takes another sip of his drink.]
He's tired, and he can't even focus on hunting here - not their kind of hunting - so Dean's been throwing himself into whatever he can - research about the Animus, hunting their meals, anything. Eventually, they'll get home - he still believes that - but they'll just pick up fighting all over again. There is no light at the end of the tunnel - not Dean's tunnel - and the most he can hope for is saving some people and shutting down hell along the way.
Dean shrugs at the question, as though it isn't a huge deal - as if he Cas both hadn't taken some personal digs at each other not too long ago.]
Same old stuff.
[Disagreements and bad choices, and he and Cas can't see eye-to-eye, as usual.]
We better not end up stuck here for two years.
[He takes another sip of his drink.]
Alright. Just -- whatever you two are huffing about, don't let it get to you. Cas is kind of the best lead we have of getting out of here right now, anyway.
[And he's your best friend. But Sam knows that won't really do as much to mention. Wouldn't change Dean being mad at him, if he is. Considering he asked that question to Sam right now? He's betting so. That, or worried. And Dean just doesn't seem to be in a worried mood.
... He turns his drink quietly for a moment.]
I spoke with Crowley. In his door. Didn't know if you wanted this on your plate yet after all this crap with the doors, but the sooner you know the better.
[He pauses a beat, hesitant, and drinks away the last of his glass.]
... One of the trials is curing a demon -- and Crowley was our target. Got caught with him spieling on and on about it. Must be why he's even more hostile and charged than usual around here.
[And he's your best friend. But Sam knows that won't really do as much to mention. Wouldn't change Dean being mad at him, if he is. Considering he asked that question to Sam right now? He's betting so. That, or worried. And Dean just doesn't seem to be in a worried mood.
... He turns his drink quietly for a moment.]
I spoke with Crowley. In his door. Didn't know if you wanted this on your plate yet after all this crap with the doors, but the sooner you know the better.
[He pauses a beat, hesitant, and drinks away the last of his glass.]
... One of the trials is curing a demon -- and Crowley was our target. Got caught with him spieling on and on about it. Must be why he's even more hostile and charged than usual around here.
Edited 2013-09-02 02:14 (UTC)
[Dean may have a lot on his plate already, but he doesn't mind adding a discussion about Crowley. That's work, as far as he is concerned, and they could use a little more of that around here.]
Curing him of what? Being a giant douchewad?
[Because if so, they failed.
He's interested, though, and sits a little straighter, ready to talk shop.]
That means we're close.
[No wonder he's been dropping the names of the deceased to taunt Sam. He must be pissed.]
Curing him of what? Being a giant douchewad?
[Because if so, they failed.
He's interested, though, and sits a little straighter, ready to talk shop.]
That means we're close.
[No wonder he's been dropping the names of the deceased to taunt Sam. He must be pissed.]
Yeah. We must've failed somewhere halfway through it or something, because right now? He's apparently kind of... both. In-between. Which means he's kind of a weird half-breed.
[Sam could argue he and Crowley are both half-breeds, really. Whatever the fuck Sam is, that's about as close to an equivalent as he gets, what with Azazel's children dead. He wonders if there are more of him out there... Best not dwell on it right now.]
Don't know how we figure it out or what happens to make it work, but there you go... I'm thinking about contacting him after the doors are over with, see what I can get out of him.
Not too hopeful for anything he says being completely true or anything, but it's worth a shot to see what's going on in that head of his right now.
[Sam could argue he and Crowley are both half-breeds, really. Whatever the fuck Sam is, that's about as close to an equivalent as he gets, what with Azazel's children dead. He wonders if there are more of him out there... Best not dwell on it right now.]
Don't know how we figure it out or what happens to make it work, but there you go... I'm thinking about contacting him after the doors are over with, see what I can get out of him.
Not too hopeful for anything he says being completely true or anything, but it's worth a shot to see what's going on in that head of his right now.
Probably didn't get a chance to finish. That's gotta be some serious stuff.
[Something like that may not be as simple as reciting some words while covered in blood. Which is part of the reason why Dean wanted to be the one who completed the trials.]
You sure?
[Dean's not trying to micromanage, but your last conversation with Crowley didn't go so well, Sam.]
[Something like that may not be as simple as reciting some words while covered in blood. Which is part of the reason why Dean wanted to be the one who completed the trials.]
You sure?
[Dean's not trying to micromanage, but your last conversation with Crowley didn't go so well, Sam.]
[He looks at Dean as though he'd outright asked if Sam should be allowed to handle it and shakes his head a little, determination flooding his otherwise tired features. He sounds as though he's trying to convince Dean — because he is. Just like with the Trials. There's that same certain sound in his tone. I can do this.]
I can handle it. I got this.
[Because he does have this. He can do it, Dean. He's not a baby, and he had one moment of weakness at a past friend's death. He can handle talking to Crowley.]
I can handle it. I got this.
[Because he does have this. He can do it, Dean. He's not a baby, and he had one moment of weakness at a past friend's death. He can handle talking to Crowley.]
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