Supernatural fic:The Fix 1/1 [G] Sam, Lisa - 6.01 coda
I had to get this up before tonight's episode.
Happy Friday! :-)
Title: The Fix
Rating: G
Characters: Sam, Lisa
Notes/Disclaimers: Coda to 6.01.
Spoilers: up to & incl. 6.01
10/01/10 04:37:00 PM
The Fix
A bar would not have been his choice of meeting place - it was too public, and too familiar, and not a place where he could easily picture the person he was meeting, no matter what he'd heard from a certain third party. However he'd been summoned, so he entered from the back, a caution that was these days ingrained habit. He emerged from the short hall that led to the men's and the ladies' and still boasted a coin-operated payphone.
No one in the place noticed the tall figure, dressed in dark unremarkable clothes. Only the person who had been waiting for him.
She was waiting in a booth. He managed not to show any discomfort as he folded and tucked himself in to the empty bench seat across from hers.
“Lisa.”
“Sam.”
To Dean she was all reason and kindness and strength and compassion, but she let Sam hear the edge in her voice. He didn't blame her for it, but he wasn't going to anticipate her.
“Where's Dean?” He judged that edge and didn't contain an immediate urgency, but he had to ask.
“Asleep at home.” The young woman watched Sam Winchester with barely narrowed eyes framed by thick, dark lashes. “...after a few more shots than usual.”
If it was even a thinly veiled accusation, it rolled off Sam.
“Nothing surprising about that,” he said, and then waited for her to tell him why he was here.
“No, I guess not.” But she seemed to need another minute to marshal her words. In the pause, a waitress came over and asked for orders.
“Two beers, El Sols,” Sam gave one as if they'd already conferred on it.
Lisa's lips pressed together briefly. She watched until the waitress was out of earshot and leaned forward over the table between them.
“I thought we had a deal, Sam.” The D word seemed to thicken on her tongue for a second. Whatever she knew, about Dean, about him, it wasn't a word to use lightly with Winchesters but she wasn't the kind to pretty up terms. He liked that about her.
“We did. I didn't have a choice. I just barely got there in time to save him.”
Sam's calm made her feel unreasonable. Sometimes, it made her feel uneasy.
“Okay, I get that. But you have to fix this.”
Sam never seemed to figit these days. “He made his choice, he chose to stay with you and Ben. I don't see that there's anything to fix.”
Her tight expression finally deepened into a frown. “You know as well as I do that it's not going to last.” She leaned back in the booth and crossed her arms over her chest, aware that it looked less like an intimidating posture and more like she was hugging herself.
He watched her, and for a moment his blank expression softened a little.
“You don't give yourself enough credit, Lisa.”
“Stuff that shit,” she snapped, something she wouldn't have wanted Ben to hear her say. “You were the one who told me that the only way this could work was if he didn't know you were back.”
His eyes dropped to the table for a moment and maybe he was looking into memory, evaluating past and present. Or maybe he was just tired of looking at her with nothing to offer back.
“It's been a year,” he said quietly. Always quietly. “He's angry about it. He loves you and he loves Ben.”
There was so much distance between them.
“He'll get over it,” she answered, after a brief moment of biting her lip. “If he has to make a choice...”
She left it unspoken. We both know he'll chose you.
Sam wasn't so sure.
“I did the best I could,” he said, and she heard the finality in it. For a moment Lisa wondered if he was talking to her or himself.
“You want him,” she said, flatly. The homoerotic undertones were ignored by everyone present.
“He's my brother,” Sam said, almost surprised as the words came out so effortlessly. He followed them as quickly as he could focus the thought. “I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted.”
It was truth, he'd stake whatever he had left these days on that. But she wasn't wrong.
“There's nothing I can do,” he said, and started to slide out of the booth.
Her hand grabbed for his wrist and Sam froze like a statue. Something in that stillness caught her breath in her chest.
“Sam...” maybe she was coaxing now, maybe she wasn't certain herself.
He looked full into her eyes and said simply, “It's his choice. I wanted to give him that. I'm not sure I made the right decision but I didn't come back to sabotage this.”
He tugged his wrist out of her hold - she let him go without trying to keep him - and stood up.
Money was placed on the table for the waitress.
“There's nothing I can do now,” he repeated. He paused for a moment, though, as if sifting through his thoughts carefully. Everything he seemed to do was so careful these days. “I think he could still be happier with you. Thanks for that.”
She wanted to take one of the beer bottles neither of them had drunk from and throw it at him but she had the eerie feeling he'd catch it.
“Damn you, Sam.”
He turned away quickly as if he didn't want her to see the way his mouth tugged to one side. With his broad back between them, he murmured, “Take care, Lisa.”
“It's your fault, Sam.” She hissed it at him, not wanting to let him have the last word, but an answer came back just before he disappeared into the back.
“Usually is.”
~
05:24:03 PM
~
Happy Friday! :-)
Title: The Fix
Rating: G
Characters: Sam, Lisa
Notes/Disclaimers: Coda to 6.01.
Spoilers: up to & incl. 6.01
10/01/10 04:37:00 PM
The Fix
A bar would not have been his choice of meeting place - it was too public, and too familiar, and not a place where he could easily picture the person he was meeting, no matter what he'd heard from a certain third party. However he'd been summoned, so he entered from the back, a caution that was these days ingrained habit. He emerged from the short hall that led to the men's and the ladies' and still boasted a coin-operated payphone.
No one in the place noticed the tall figure, dressed in dark unremarkable clothes. Only the person who had been waiting for him.
She was waiting in a booth. He managed not to show any discomfort as he folded and tucked himself in to the empty bench seat across from hers.
“Lisa.”
“Sam.”
To Dean she was all reason and kindness and strength and compassion, but she let Sam hear the edge in her voice. He didn't blame her for it, but he wasn't going to anticipate her.
“Where's Dean?” He judged that edge and didn't contain an immediate urgency, but he had to ask.
“Asleep at home.” The young woman watched Sam Winchester with barely narrowed eyes framed by thick, dark lashes. “...after a few more shots than usual.”
If it was even a thinly veiled accusation, it rolled off Sam.
“Nothing surprising about that,” he said, and then waited for her to tell him why he was here.
“No, I guess not.” But she seemed to need another minute to marshal her words. In the pause, a waitress came over and asked for orders.
“Two beers, El Sols,” Sam gave one as if they'd already conferred on it.
Lisa's lips pressed together briefly. She watched until the waitress was out of earshot and leaned forward over the table between them.
“I thought we had a deal, Sam.” The D word seemed to thicken on her tongue for a second. Whatever she knew, about Dean, about him, it wasn't a word to use lightly with Winchesters but she wasn't the kind to pretty up terms. He liked that about her.
“We did. I didn't have a choice. I just barely got there in time to save him.”
Sam's calm made her feel unreasonable. Sometimes, it made her feel uneasy.
“Okay, I get that. But you have to fix this.”
Sam never seemed to figit these days. “He made his choice, he chose to stay with you and Ben. I don't see that there's anything to fix.”
Her tight expression finally deepened into a frown. “You know as well as I do that it's not going to last.” She leaned back in the booth and crossed her arms over her chest, aware that it looked less like an intimidating posture and more like she was hugging herself.
He watched her, and for a moment his blank expression softened a little.
“You don't give yourself enough credit, Lisa.”
“Stuff that shit,” she snapped, something she wouldn't have wanted Ben to hear her say. “You were the one who told me that the only way this could work was if he didn't know you were back.”
His eyes dropped to the table for a moment and maybe he was looking into memory, evaluating past and present. Or maybe he was just tired of looking at her with nothing to offer back.
“It's been a year,” he said quietly. Always quietly. “He's angry about it. He loves you and he loves Ben.”
There was so much distance between them.
“He'll get over it,” she answered, after a brief moment of biting her lip. “If he has to make a choice...”
She left it unspoken. We both know he'll chose you.
Sam wasn't so sure.
“I did the best I could,” he said, and she heard the finality in it. For a moment Lisa wondered if he was talking to her or himself.
“You want him,” she said, flatly. The homoerotic undertones were ignored by everyone present.
“He's my brother,” Sam said, almost surprised as the words came out so effortlessly. He followed them as quickly as he could focus the thought. “I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted.”
It was truth, he'd stake whatever he had left these days on that. But she wasn't wrong.
“There's nothing I can do,” he said, and started to slide out of the booth.
Her hand grabbed for his wrist and Sam froze like a statue. Something in that stillness caught her breath in her chest.
“Sam...” maybe she was coaxing now, maybe she wasn't certain herself.
He looked full into her eyes and said simply, “It's his choice. I wanted to give him that. I'm not sure I made the right decision but I didn't come back to sabotage this.”
He tugged his wrist out of her hold - she let him go without trying to keep him - and stood up.
Money was placed on the table for the waitress.
“There's nothing I can do now,” he repeated. He paused for a moment, though, as if sifting through his thoughts carefully. Everything he seemed to do was so careful these days. “I think he could still be happier with you. Thanks for that.”
She wanted to take one of the beer bottles neither of them had drunk from and throw it at him but she had the eerie feeling he'd catch it.
“Damn you, Sam.”
He turned away quickly as if he didn't want her to see the way his mouth tugged to one side. With his broad back between them, he murmured, “Take care, Lisa.”
“It's your fault, Sam.” She hissed it at him, not wanting to let him have the last word, but an answer came back just before he disappeared into the back.
“Usually is.”
~
05:24:03 PM
~