Pick-a-Pam!
Yet again, because clearly I don't have enough to do. Pick a Pam! Any verse, any length fic. There will be ... something written anyway! As a bonus meme, if you want I will do a DVD commentary for it afterwards
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“Anna.” Her eyes widened a little in surprise, but she lowered the shotgun by the door. It stayed there, now, one of a couple in the house. Considering the Apocalypse and all. “What’s wrong?”
It was still pouring down rain outside. Anna couldn’t seem to say anything at first, making what sounded like either gulping sobs or deep panting breaths of air from hard exertion. Pam shook her head slightly against the words Anna was trying to get out and tugged the other woman in by the hand, grabbing one of the sturdier wool blankets that lay draped over the couch and bundling it around her like a child. She tugged her around the shoulders to the couch to sit down, and sat next to her.
“Deep breaths,” Pam reminded her. “Take your time. In your own words.” Okay, that last part was a little overdone, but she’d been reading detective fiction just before bed.
“I don’t know...” she breathed, when she could speak again. “I just... I don’t know what to do. The dead rose in South Dakota, Sam de-possessed famine, the world’s coming to an end and I don’t...”
“Know what to do. Okay, okay.” Pamela put her arms around the other woman and pulled her close, rubbing her shoulders again. “Okay. Take a breath.”
The storm continued to rattle her windows with the wind through the trees and against the panes. Thunder clashed outside. Pamela smiled a little as the lightning flashed, less so as her hall light flickered upstairs, the teal-bright LED on the stereo flickered. That was all they needed, a blackout. Well, no, they could manage in a blackout, she was pretty well prepared. It just wouldn’t help Anna’s state of mind any.
“I don’t know what to do, Pam. Everything I do, it’s not enough. It’s never enough. And he won’t let me in, and...”
‘He,’ in this case, she presumed, was Dean. And given what had happened, hell. Given what had happened to her own self, she could kind of understand why. On the other hand, she could also appreciate that it wasn’t the healthiest way to handle the currently burgeoning apocalypse. Dean was shutting down by the sound of it, closing in on himself, and what was happening with Sam? Someone had to talk to those boys. Maybe Bobby. Maybe it would have to be her.
“I wish I had some sage advice for you, hon, but the truth is, there isn’t any sage advice. It’s a painful truth that people can only be helped when they want to be helped, and likewise, people will only open up if they want to.” Pam had met people who could draw others out, open them up like a fish, lay them bare, but those people were few and far between. And by now most of them were either dead or evil. And Anna was in no shape to even begin to understand how to go about doing that.
And she didn’t think Dean would take very kindly to that, anyway. He wouldn’t trust someone who did that to him, not ever again.
“What am I going to do?”
Pam took a breath and sat back a little, tugging the blanket closed in front again where it gaped as Anna had sat up and it shrugged off her shoulders. “Endure,” she sighed, brushing the wet hair out of the poor woman’s face. “Soldier on. Do the best you can. Keep a watchful eye, alleviate the little, you know. Problems. Keep them ... you know. Keep them going. You can’t pick them up off the floor if you’re fallen on it, yourself.”
Anna seemed torn between being belligerent and denying that, demanding something more useful to do, and just collapsing in a puddle of exhaustion. Pam could empathize. She remembered being on the edge of that, swimming in it, through school, towards the death of her mother. Strangely, never when dealing with the supernatural, especially lately. Maybe it was dying that put everything into perspective.
“Come on,” she said after a second. “You’ll spend the night here, get a good night’s sleep, they’re, what, in the Rockhaven Motel?”
“Yes,” Anna scrubbed at her eyes, recovering the scraps of her dignity with tissues and a straighter back. “Yeah.”
“Okay, that’s not that far. You’ll spend the night here and in the morning we’ll collect them for breakfast, figure out what to do.”
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