Nov 30, 2010 15:05
There was little to be said of the daily business that went on. He allowed himself to be shuffled, mind embedded too deeply in things he shouldn't be dwelling on. The night was over, the shadows had vanished, and there was little more than bad memories to be left in their stead. This was logic, pure and simple, and should have been reassuring but
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leela,
kirk,
s.t.,
badd,
anise,
england,
sam winchester,
amaterasu,
niikura,
taura,
franziska,
claire bennet,
peter parker,
snow,
lunge,
ruby,
mello,
brainiac 5,
xemnas,
the flash,
minako,
stefan,
watson,
peter petrelli,
soma,
mele,
damon,
kanda,
two-face,
tomoe,
isaac,
erika,
edgar,
neku,
maya,
zack,
kratos,
l,
sechs,
scott pilgrim,
gumshoe,
aigis,
izaya,
sora,
claude,
guybrush,
elena gilbert,
dean winchester,
gant,
buzz,
grell,
guy,
kairi,
gaara,
depth charge,
kibitoshin,
ilia,
rita,
lightning,
castiel,
fai,
yue,
sasuke,
claire stanfield,
ema skye,
mccoy,
the master,
scar (tlk)
And he further couldn't tell if she'd deliberately misinterpreted his words there at the end, or if she'd honestly read him wrong. Experience with Ruby tended to have him lean towards the former. Because it wasn't about what he could or couldn't do with his abilities, it was about what he was or wasn't willing to do. He'd seen enough of the other children to know just how far he could go. That was the crux of the whole damn problem ( ... )
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"Okay." Dean said, dropping his hand. He repeated himself, "Okay. First of all, it’d be nice to know this kinda stuff when it’s not after the fact.” He held up his hand before Sam started getting defensive on him. “So what’s the deal with her if she’s not dead ( ... )
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What was with Ruby, good question. What was the deal with anyone popping back in? It was hard to get worked up about these things anymore when it was all so goddamn insane.
He shrugged. "I wish I knew. I mean, you heard Yuffie, people come and go. Hell, I died and I showed up the next day. Who knows what's real anymore? All I know is, she doesn't remember having been here. Someone's hit the reset button ( ... )
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So here they were again.
He pushed his tray out of the way. "Well, it was meant to be an extension of our subconscious. Shadow metaphor's...not too subtle." God, he was stalling, wasn't he?
Though it did raise the question of where Dean's shadow got to. Piecing it together now, Dean had one, definitely, or he wouldn't have been feeling so tripped out the way he had earlier in the night. Maybe it just hadn't had the time to manifest. Of the four of them, Sam couldn't say he was surprised that his and the Trickster's came out at full force. They were...the least normal of the group. The least human ( ... )
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"I promise," Dean said, already getting that sinking feeling in his gut. He already knew he was going to break it - did freaking inside your head count? 'Cause he was totally prepped to do a mental freak out - but it was either nutting up and having Sam tell him face to face or the kid sneak around him like he was some bigass ninja. Dean paused. If they were both going to be telling the truth, then he had to be upfront too. "I'll try. Can't promise I'll take it in a stride, Sam."
This wasn't the same level as finding out that some of Sam's hunches - okay, maybe more than just some - had a bad habit of turning out true. Scary true. Dean couldn't lie and say none of this freaked him out. But then again...well, he had about a year(ish) left, he didn't want to spend the majority of it paranoid Sam was up to something behind his back, just for purely selfish ( ... )
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This was a bad idea. Crap, he knew it was a bad idea, there'd been a reason why he'd buried it for over a year. And after so long, he felt even less okay about divulging it out of the blue. Well, sort of out of the blue, like, yeah, Dean had asked to hear it, but Dean had no idea what he was asking for. He couldn't know ( ... )
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At least Dean hadn't, you know, totally called him out on lying (well, mildly omitting) about Cold Oak earlier. Weeks ago now. God, had it been that long? Apparently.
And he was stalling.
He hesitated, trying to find the proper words, but there wasn't exactly a handbook set of rules for these things. If there'd been a way to do this over the phone or send an email or something, Sam thought he might've taken that option instead.
"I have demon blood. In me." He didn't qualify it with he said because this wasn't about what Azazel had said. It just was. Simple fact. And he didn't feel like thinking about what this meant for him and Dean now that it was out. Maybe Dean would surprise him, but something told him no. Dean would take it just as badly as he expected, if not worse, and ( ... )
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And now there was all kinds of questions cropping up and he didn't even know where to start: how was the obvious one, why was the next (why Sam?), how come the holy water and devil's traps didn't have any effect on him, and the list went on. Was this what Dad meant about that fucked up warning he gave him? Dean was starting to get pissed all over again and not all of it was aimed at his brother. Goddamit, something this big, Dad should've told him. What if this got worse? Hell, those powers hadn’t kicked in until recently, so what else was coming down the line? Was the blood thing going to get more intense? The lore on demons was all over the place and some of it wasn’t true, or they were talking about the other freaks out there. He couldn’t say for sure. Bobby could’ve probably helped, except he wasn’t here right now ( ... )
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Because he still wasn't entirely sure Dean wouldn't disown him by the end of this whole thing. And a part of him thought maybe he wasn't being fair; for God's sake, Dean was his brother, no matter what, and of course he knew that Dean felt the same way. Dean wasn't Dad; he'd always known that. If there had ever been one thing that had made him hesitate, for a moment, about leaving for California, it'd been Dean ( ... )
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It hit him just a second too late, and he had plenty of time to see that look on Sam's face, like he'd kicked him when he was down. Dean sighed, rubbing at his eyes and wishing it hadn't come out so douchey; it wasn't like he'd meant it to, but it'd been pretty douchey and he should've worded it better.
"Sorry. Sam, I didn't mean it like that," Dean tried again, trying very hard not to just peer at his brother for any signs of those black eyes. Suddenly it felt like it made sense, those eyes on that shadow from last night. Things were just starting to click into place: that freak telekinesis a few months ago, Yellow-Eye's hard-on for his brother, to name a few.
He fished around for something to say. Nothing came to mind right off the bat, Dean averting his eyes and clearing his throat, feeling this nauseated tightness setting in. Sam was right. They both had good reason to freak out and what the Hell was this about Mom recognizing Yellow-Eyes ( ... )
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All right, happy wasn't the right word here. He didn't think that would ever apply to either one of them anymore. Like it'd ever had.He shook off the thought, forcing himself to focus on Dean's questions. Not that those were much better; they weren't exactly questions he wanted to answer at the moment. Or at any point in his life, actually. He'd asked them himself plenty of times. How long before his eyes turned black? How much of him was even human? Was there a percentage to this, an exact quantifiable statistic that could be measured in a test tube and a petri dish? He knew he couldn't literally become a demon; all logic said otherwise from what he knew about Hell through months of research and through Ruby. But there wasn't-it was more than that, it was ( ... )
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