Subconscious Week [Party Post]

[beyondriftmods]

[OOC: For all your threading needs during subconscious week. Anything and everything that has to do with this plot no matter what day that it occurs on. :> Even little mini ficlets. Works like a party post, tag around as much as you like. Sorry for the slightly cracky post.]For one whole week, the city of Chicago has been afflicted with a new Rift-

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[enoughtocarry]

Sam's surprised he's unaffected by whatever's going on in the city. He's surprised, but not unpleasantly so. He's always the one stuck right in the middle of things. He's always the one that people die for or people get in trouble for. Guilt is such an easy thing for a Winchester to feel, and they have plenty of ammo where that comes from. There are plenty of things he's in denial of and plenty of things he simply never allows himself to face, but there's nothing haunting him.

The image of Jess doesn't follow him around. The yellow-eyed demon is nowhere in sight. A younger Mary isn't whispering into his ear, before she's pinned to the ceiling and fire breaks it all apart.

There's only a deserted street and Buffy. Buffy and the sound of her crying.

When they met, something big and terrible had happened to her. He could tell, but she wouldn't say--and who could blame her?

Sam swallows hard, swallows past that feeling in his throat, and he makes his way over to her. He wants to reach for her, but he doesn't know how that's going to be received. "Buffy," he says, in as steady and calm as a voice as he can manage, his hand stretching out to rest on her shoulder.

And once there's that contact, he tugs her toward him gently.

[isaywe_party]

For the longest time, Buffy isn't aware of anything around her. There's so much that needed to just be released and let go, that she didn't have the focus for anything else. She just needs to let it all go, and in the end she'll be fine.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

She hears Sam's voice, and that's probably why she doesn't shove him off right off the bat. She isn't sure she knows him well enough to dump the screwed up steaming pile of crap that's on his shoulders, but she knows that isn't what he's offering. He's just offering a hug, and in all honesty, that's what she needs more than anything else.

She moves into him with little persuasion, sliding her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. He's so tall that she only makes it up to just below his shoulders, but that's okay. It's a good fit for right now, and she just lets herself rest there. She reminds herself that she isn't alone. She has friends. Maybe if Sam asks her, she'll tell him, but for right now, it's just about the not alone.

Heart wrenching confessions need not apply.

[enoughtocarry]

It doesn't occur to Sam to ask anything right now. He'll want to know later, because he wants to know more about her, but he isn't going to push about it, either. All he thinks to do right now is get close enough to her to reach out. He can't get the image of her crying in the middle of the street out of his head, and he doesn't think he will anytime soon.

He brings her to him, an arm slipping around her own waist to draw her in further, pressing her closely to him. She's so small, far stronger than her frame would make it seem, but still--she's small, like she might break in half when Sam knows better than that.

"It's okay," he whispers into her hair, running a hand up and down her back.

Whatever it is, he can tell it's not okay, but what he means is she's not alone and she doesn't have to carry it alone, whatever it is that made her react like that.

And he'll keep holding her tightly to him until she pulls away, or until she lets it all out.

[isaywe_party]

No, it's not okay, but as everything gets out, she starts to feel a little better. Once she's officially done, she pulls back and gives him a small smile, just wanting to regain a little control and feel a little more like herself again.

"Thanks, Sam," she says softly, sniffling a bit before her eyes wander down to his shirt and the giant wet stain she had left there. "Oh, God, I just -- sorry. Really."

[enoughtocarry]

Sam keeps a hand on her arm, even after she's pulled away. The concern is evidently written across his features, and he flashes back a thin but earnest smile. "Don't mention it," he says, and he hasn't even noticed the stain on his shirt. He couldn't care less, considering it's Buffy.

"Hey, don't apologize," he says quietly, and his hand tentatively cups the side of her face before he shakes his head. "It's okay. I'm just worried about you."

[isaywe_party]

She shakes her head. "I'm fine. Really. It's just ... been a really long couple of days." It's not easy for her to admit she's seeing things. It's not easy for her to admit to a lot of things, no matter how much she may like Sam, or may want to just spill her whole life story to just to get it out there, she knows that it's too much for one person.

Most of the time, it's too much for her.

And then, she is curious. Maybe she isn't alone here. "Have you -- been seeing things? Things you shouldn't be?"

[enoughtocarry]

"Yeah, that seems to be the way things work around here," he says, scratching the back of his head before he turns back to her, the worry still there in his gaze. His stance hasn't quite relaxed, but he's definitely not going to press. He wouldn't believe anyone would be able to handle his baggage, after all.

It's a lot of baggage.

Sam swallows thickly. "My friend was," he answers. And he's not sure if that's what he can call Castiel. "And there've been people on the streets running and screaming at things no one else can see."

[isaywe_party]

She nods. "Well, you can count me among the friends. Unfortunately."

She turns back to pick up the scythe, and tests the weight in her hand for a moment. "You know, having the job I do, really sucks. It's a great job, and you get to be the hero, but sometimes being the hero means you have to make really crappy choices to protect everyone else." She looks down at the ground as she lets her arm drop. "Thinking of everyone else means you rarely ever get to think of yourself."

[enoughtocarry]

Sam tucks a strand of hair over her ear, before he realizes what he's actually doing, dropping his hand back to his side. "I know," he says quietly, and there's an intensity behind his words that hopefully shows he does know, or understands as well as he can.

"Okay, so... let's pretend for this one moment you're jobless." Sam turns around in place, stretching out his hands to motion to the empty street. "It's just you and me and your... scythe over there. No one else to think about but yourself. What would you like to do right now, this very moment?"

[isaywe_party]

She considers that quietly for a moment, because she can. Because, in an odd way, he has a point. She's not the leader of the Slayers, here. She's living in a world where she doesn't have to save the world all the time. So really, Sam's question isn't a hypothetical one -- it's a valid one.

And the thing she would like to do, well.

There are a lot of hang-ups, there. There's the fact that she's the Slayer, and that her history with things like this is sordid at best, but if he's really asking her what she wants, if he really is asking her what to do, and her job isn't a variable, there is one thing that a normal girl would probably do in this situation with a boy she likes who has just done something really sweet.

She takes a step forward, pushing herself up on her toes, and brushing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips. Probably a little more forward than she should have been, but he asked the question.

[enoughtocarry]

Now, it's not like this is the first time he's thought about kissing Buffy, mind you. It's not like he hasn't had certain dreams about her which Dean would probably rag him about forever. Still, she was crying, and he genuinely was trying to comfort her without taking advantage of the vulnerable moment.

It's a little bit harder to reign that in when she takes the first step.

The kiss he gives in return is not a chaste one.

Or rather, it doesn't stay that way. His arm slips around her waist to draw her toward him, tipping her chin upward to deepen the kiss, fingers splaying softly across the side of her face.

[isaywe_party]

Buffy's thought about kissing Sam, too. It's the tall thing. And the fact that he's a nice guy. And the tall thing. But for right now, she just wants to get herself as close as possible, letting him deepen the kiss and just relaxing against him. All the tears and the pain just floats away for a moment as she loses herself in something else.

She holds the kiss for as long as she can without needing to breath, before pulling back just enough so that she could speak. Her forehead rest against his, and she drapes an arm around his shoulders.

"That," she whispers. "I'd do that."

[enoughtocarry]

The kiss centers him and has him off-kilter all at once. It's effortless to deepen the kiss, to press her closer to him, to lose himself in this. In her.

He only draws back when she does, and even then, his hands remain where they are, fingers delicately pressing into either side of her face. He breathes out, the softness of it fanning across her forehead, and then he smiles.

Actually smiles.

"I should ask you that question more often, then," he says, voice lower than a whisper.

[isaywe_party]

She grins, before nodding. She can definitely echo that sentiment. "I really think you should."

She is uncertain where to go from there, though. It's been a while since she's done this with a normal guy, so she's not exactly sure what the next step is. But she likes being here, in this place, so she's not going anywhere. Just staying close for a little while.