[Currently in M01, from hereKurt exhaled loudly and suddenly when Kon sat on him. Jeez, way to knock the wind out of someone! Kurt was barely half Kon's weight, he would be crushed
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The true, potent stuff was something only the families inherited, but there were weaker branches that had some magic, like Gorman. A puny amount compared to Sons’, but magic all the same.
Reid thought he knew the signs when someone was trying to use something on him, and the way the hair at the back of his neck tingled in warning and the way Asshole #2 recoiled like he’d hit a mental wall kind of gave it away. The warlock’s teeth sank into the inside of his cheek on reflex, smirk disappearing. Okay… what? He’d been jumped by Slap-Happy Joe out there, but the sidekick brother had some kind of supernatural mojo? That just made the entire situation more of a fucking joke, because what the fuck did they think they were doing, joking around with him?
He flexed harder against the duct tape, staring down Captain Oblivious--who so needed to be taught a lesson on who had the biggest magical balls of them all--without saying anything. It took some effort not to, if the twitch in his jaw muscle was anything to go by.
“I’d stop pretending you had a clue what I am,” he finally murmured. ‘You have them, too’? Please. Reid wasn’t anything as sorry as these two. “So now what? On to Plan C?”
Sam had no clue what he was, either, in truth; he'd stopped trying to figure that out a long time ago, too. But there was no way this guy knew about Yellow-Eyes or the true origins of his powers. He obviously wasn't a hunter. However he'd come about his abilities, they must've just developed on their own like the other kids. Though Sam had thought the remaining generations had gone dormant before this. He'd hoped they'd gone dormant. His had only unlocked as a result of...a lot of things, and considering the way they'd screwed with him and everyone around him, he'd hoped the others would get to live out their lives normal.
The guy's mention of Plan C did jolt Sam out of his focus on the whole possible special kids aspect and into the fact that, yeah, this was...sort of not a good situation, what with. Kidnapping. Which Sam was tempted to wholly blame on Dean, but given that he would've jumped to the same conclusion had he been in Dean's place, that probably wouldn't be fair. It took all of his power not to cringe visibly. There was no proper explanation here, was there?
There really wasn't. Sam didn't even bother trying, only licked his lips and moved forward, grabbing the flashlight along the way so he could actually see enough to cut the kid free. Some chance of the guy taking the opportunity to attack once he was let go, but Sam wasn't gonna leave him like that. He was pretty sure an apology was in order, too, except sorry didn't quite cut it in these cases of abduction via massive misunderstanding. Maybe once upon a time, he would've made an effort, anyway, fumbled his way through something, but. Besides, he figured the guy might be more interested in getting the hell out rather than an explanation.
He kind of wished Dean was back in here so he could pass the torch to his brother to deal with this because seriously, his head was still pounding for reasons he didn't want to think about at the moment and this whole situation was simply jacked. Not just this here right now, but everything. Everything since last night. And when did he start falling back on expecting Dean to be around again? One day with his brother and four months working to move past needing Dean-needing anyone-at his back apparently undid itself just like that.
Dean came back into the room. It was almost as dark as the hallway outside, but he still had enough light. Dean had a split second to pick out Sam, bowie knife in hand and flashlight in the other, and...
He was cutting Punk-Ass loose from the duct tape.
Dean stepped forward. "The hell're you doing?"
Was Sammy possessed? He hadn't been during breakfast and he wouldn't have been fool enough to walk under a devil's trap willingly even if he had been. So what was he doing freeing the prisoner? Y'know, the friggen demon that belonged tied up to that damn chair and was going to be sent back to Hell. Dean couldn't keep up with Sam's moodswings - first he was gunning to exorcism this bastard and now he was freeing it? What was even going on?
Wild tigers could be better behaved than Reid, his own mother had said so, but maybe she’d be rolling over in her country club chair if she could see him then--under a serious fucking threat from one fourth walling ringmaster, and a less serious and more annoying threat from two dimwits--letting the subpar magical sidekick get within spitting distance of him with a bowie knife. And like a wild tiger that knew the key was about to turn in the lock and open his cage without ever admitting he needed help getting out, the warlock sat and held his breath.
There was a hunger boiling in him, and it was crazy hard to hold it back while bit by bit, duct tape came loose. And then Mr. Slippery Fingers walked back in the door from whatever smoke break he’d been on, and Reid bit his lip in something like glee.
The little details could be dealt with later. Right now…
When Reid was loose enough to move on his own terms, he hauled himself out of the chair with a quick, easy grace that deep down, he wasn’t feeling. But he’d been embarrassed and knocked around and reminded again that his Power wasn’t so helpful anymore, and he needed this to be good. So he rubbed the scabbing cut on his neck with undue nonchalance, while inwardly he channelled his will into everything he had left.
“Guess he’s proving he’s not so much of a dumb shit as you,” drawled Reid, who rolled his shoulders once. “But then again, now I’m up, which is pretty damn stupid to let happen.” And then he threw his arms up, palms out to each brother, and released what Power he had left, two torrents quicker than light and that seemed to ripple the very space they occupied, like waves in water. Halved, the full blast wasn’t what it could’ve been, but for the two of them, it was more than enough to make up for the beating he’d taken. Dean’d got off easy the first time.
Reid thought he knew the signs when someone was trying to use something on him, and the way the hair at the back of his neck tingled in warning and the way Asshole #2 recoiled like he’d hit a mental wall kind of gave it away. The warlock’s teeth sank into the inside of his cheek on reflex, smirk disappearing. Okay… what? He’d been jumped by Slap-Happy Joe out there, but the sidekick brother had some kind of supernatural mojo? That just made the entire situation more of a fucking joke, because what the fuck did they think they were doing, joking around with him?
He flexed harder against the duct tape, staring down Captain Oblivious--who so needed to be taught a lesson on who had the biggest magical balls of them all--without saying anything. It took some effort not to, if the twitch in his jaw muscle was anything to go by.
“I’d stop pretending you had a clue what I am,” he finally murmured. ‘You have them, too’? Please. Reid wasn’t anything as sorry as these two. “So now what? On to Plan C?”
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The guy's mention of Plan C did jolt Sam out of his focus on the whole possible special kids aspect and into the fact that, yeah, this was...sort of not a good situation, what with. Kidnapping. Which Sam was tempted to wholly blame on Dean, but given that he would've jumped to the same conclusion had he been in Dean's place, that probably wouldn't be fair. It took all of his power not to cringe visibly. There was no proper explanation here, was there?
There really wasn't. Sam didn't even bother trying, only licked his lips and moved forward, grabbing the flashlight along the way so he could actually see enough to cut the kid free. Some chance of the guy taking the opportunity to attack once he was let go, but Sam wasn't gonna leave him like that. He was pretty sure an apology was in order, too, except sorry didn't quite cut it in these cases of abduction via massive misunderstanding. Maybe once upon a time, he would've made an effort, anyway, fumbled his way through something, but. Besides, he figured the guy might be more interested in getting the hell out rather than an explanation.
He kind of wished Dean was back in here so he could pass the torch to his brother to deal with this because seriously, his head was still pounding for reasons he didn't want to think about at the moment and this whole situation was simply jacked. Not just this here right now, but everything. Everything since last night. And when did he start falling back on expecting Dean to be around again? One day with his brother and four months working to move past needing Dean-needing anyone-at his back apparently undid itself just like that.
Reply
Dean came back into the room. It was almost as dark as the hallway outside, but he still had enough light. Dean had a split second to pick out Sam, bowie knife in hand and flashlight in the other, and...
He was cutting Punk-Ass loose from the duct tape.
Dean stepped forward. "The hell're you doing?"
Was Sammy possessed? He hadn't been during breakfast and he wouldn't have been fool enough to walk under a devil's trap willingly even if he had been. So what was he doing freeing the prisoner? Y'know, the friggen demon that belonged tied up to that damn chair and was going to be sent back to Hell. Dean couldn't keep up with Sam's moodswings - first he was gunning to exorcism this bastard and now he was freeing it? What was even going on?
Reply
There was a hunger boiling in him, and it was crazy hard to hold it back while bit by bit, duct tape came loose. And then Mr. Slippery Fingers walked back in the door from whatever smoke break he’d been on, and Reid bit his lip in something like glee.
The little details could be dealt with later. Right now…
When Reid was loose enough to move on his own terms, he hauled himself out of the chair with a quick, easy grace that deep down, he wasn’t feeling. But he’d been embarrassed and knocked around and reminded again that his Power wasn’t so helpful anymore, and he needed this to be good. So he rubbed the scabbing cut on his neck with undue nonchalance, while inwardly he channelled his will into everything he had left.
“Guess he’s proving he’s not so much of a dumb shit as you,” drawled Reid, who rolled his shoulders once. “But then again, now I’m up, which is pretty damn stupid to let happen.” And then he threw his arms up, palms out to each brother, and released what Power he had left, two torrents quicker than light and that seemed to ripple the very space they occupied, like waves in water. Halved, the full blast wasn’t what it could’ve been, but for the two of them, it was more than enough to make up for the beating he’d taken. Dean’d got off easy the first time.
He wouldn’t be someone’s weak little bitch…
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