(Untitled)

[badblood_rising]

Earlier that day, Sam Winchester had freed the Devil himself from Hell, and now he needed a drink.

There was something called the Hub and something called the Catscratch, but the Winchester was closest and after everything he'd gone through that day, Sam could somehow accept a mysterious bar practically named after his family more than a long walk

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[little_moons]

I've got my back to the door, leaning over the cooler behind the bar and breaking up a block of ice that got a little too solid overnight. I'm about to turn around to tell him that he's shit outta luck, that we ran out of anything branded as whiskey months ago. We've got shit that comes pretty close. Everybody's gonna have to be lowered down to my standards from now on, and I've always been more than okay with drinkin' the cheapest stuff I could find outta a paper bag.

It doesn't quite hit me how familiar the voice is 'til I turn around, catching sight of him and fumbling with the glass in my hand that I'd grabbed from over the bar. "Sam? Holy shit."

[badblood_rising]

...Of course. How many times had he and Dean gone investigating a case and went to the local watering hole to ask some questions? Of course the guy behind the bar would know his face, even if Sam didn't have a clue who he was. But they'd gone under aliases and no names at all for so long that an unfamiliar person naming him on the spot made Sam nervous. He tried to pretend it didn't though, and shrug it off. "Yup," Sam answered dryly. "That would be me."

Weird. Just weird.

[little_moons]

The first thing that pops into my head, the first thing that tumbles out of my mouth before I can stop it is, "Dean? Does he know you're here?" But then I see him, looming in the back booth and trying to pretend he's not staring and doing a pretty fuckin' piss poor job of it. Well, guess that answer that question.

"Right," I mutter, grabbing a bottle of what passes for the good stuff around here and pouring him a glass. It's easy to ignore that tone in his voice. It's not exactly unfamiliar, considering that half of what I ever said to him was met with anything ranging from disbelief to outright horror. Which was, you know, always half the fun.

[badblood_rising]

Sam didn't bother to acknowledge the question since the answer was lurking in the shadows. Things were strained and awkward, and Sam just really wanted to sit down and forget about it all for a little while instead of draw attention to it.

"Thanks," he muttered, sliding onto a stool and taking his drink. Knocking it back turned out to be a bad move, and he winced as he swallowed it down. "Did you brew that in a bathtub or something?"

...Actually, yeah, he probably did, didn't he? Isolated island.

[little_moons]

Arching a brow, I say, "You got a problem with it, there are a couple of cushier places out that door and down the path, might be more your speed."

Not waiting for him to answer, I pour him another.

[badblood_rising]

Sam didn't wait to answer him before knocking back the second pour. Some sense of preparation carried him through, and the second shot wasn't nearly as bad as the first.

"Okay," he said, backing down. Sam knew better than to start a fight with the barman, even if that barman looked like an underfed undergrad with a bad attitude. "Okay, it's just been a fucked up day."

[little_moons]

"Yeah, must've been. I don't remember you bein' such a jackass," I say, but this time there's a twitch of amusement at the corner of my lips, whether he'll see it or not. Jesus Christ, this is fucking weird.

A bad day could mean a hell of a lot of things. Coming here is always a fucking shock, but I have a feeling, from what Dean's said and what I got outta Castiel, that they don't have a whole lotta good days back home.

"You look taller," I mutter, and it's a joke I doubt he'll think is funny, but whatever. He's different. I knew him well enough, maybe not as well as a whole lotta folks, but I'd have to be fucking blind not to notice.

[badblood_rising]

Having been very short and then very tall, Sam didn't take well to jokes about his height. He took to them even worse from strangers who served him questionable alcohol and acted like they knew him. He gave the kid a withering look, then caught himself and switched it off.

"Look, I know I look like the guy you knew, and I am, kinda, and I'm sorry you lost a friend, but I don't know you and I'd appreciate it if I could just drink my drinks and pay my tab and call this a day."

[little_moons]

"Yeah, I been cryin' over the loss every fuckin' day," I scoff, plunking the bottle down next to his glass, "You can serve yourself. Money's no good here. Drink whatever you want, just don't pass out on my fucking floor."

With my back to him, angrily rearranging bottles for no fucking reason... angry to cover up the worry. Worry for Dean. Whatever happened to make him this way, harder around the edges than the other Sam ever was, it couldn't have been good.

"The name's Neil," I say, almost as an afterthought, "And I never said I was your friend."

[badblood_rising]

It was like an emotional slap across the face. Sam never thought that the whole world should love him or anything, but after everything Dean had told him that day about this being his home now and a lot of people missing him and ready to welcome him back... He was just trying to be concerned about other people's feelings. Clearly he should have just focused on his own.

Acting as his own bartender, Sam drank a little slower now, not to savor anything but not to pass out. "I won't make that mistake again, Neil," he assured him.

[little_moons]

Goddammit.

This is such a fucking disaster and I know I can't just leave it like that. As much as maybe I'd want to, and even though it might be easier in the short term... in the long-run, it can't be like that, for Dean's sake as much as anybody else's.

Shoulders slumping, I drag in a steadying breath, grit my teeth and make myself turn to look at him. "That's not what I meant," I say, pushing a hand through my hair, "Dean's a whole lot like family, so I guess that means you are too. But, sorry... I, uh... I shouldn't have acted like I know you."

[badblood_rising]

Sam was already shaking his head and had a hand half up before the words were fully out of his mouth.

"Dude, don't worry about it," he sighed tiredly. "I just want to drink until I can't think and write today off as a singularly fucked up fluke and start over tomorrow." Sam took a drink from his glass and dropped his hand. "No hard feelings and we'll try again when this isn't quite so fucking weird?"

[little_moons]

Rolling one shoulder in a shrug, I turn away from him again, like he needs the fucking privacy, and say, "There's food in the kitchen, if you get hungry."

Then, I just leave it at that. I'll finish up what I'm doin', pour drinks and make sure the customers are happy or whatever the fuck it is I'm supposed to be doin' here, then when I get a chance, I'll talk to Dean. Bad fucking day or not, he's the one I'm really worried about.