[Sam, if he were ever going to eat a person, Ruby is absolutely the last one in the world he'd go for. She'd probably poison him through sheer willpower alone, the bitch.
He moved through the apartment- man, this place was a shithole- toward the bedroom. Not much better in there, either, and of course Sam didn't have a dufflebag or something. Screw it. He grabbed a kitchen trash bag, began to stuff in articles without even really looking at them. If one or two of Ruby's got mixed in, well, fuck it. They'll just throw it out later. He'll rewash the same two outfits if he has to, until they can buy Sam some better gear.
He stomped back into the living room, met Sam's eyes for the first time since bursting in this joint, trash bag gripped tightly in one hand. He held up a finger.]
Gonna say this one time, Sam. You're getting in the car. Now, whether you walk there yourself or I carry you is entirely up to you, but we're not playing any games.
[Sam used to be big. He was still tall, but now... Well, between the drugs and the inability
( ... )
[Well hooray for that, because Dean's sporting enough gallantry for both of them right now. At least the ambulance whirring it's way to their apartment building should be a point in his favor.
And thank heaven for small favors.
The fact that there's an open spot right in front of the building he's taking as a sign that he's doing the right thing. He opens Sam's door for him, mostly to gauge how rickety on his feet he was. He's hoping the car trip over would be enough to grant him a little sobriety, but considering the amount Sam probably took and the shortness of the trip, it's not looking to be a remarkably overwhelming possibility.
Too bad Cas isn't off of work until later on tonight- having an extra set of hands, eyes, and ears would be just wonderful right about now. Someone to keep Sam occupied and engaged while Dean took the necessary precautions for a long-term stay.]
[If anything, the short trip might have mellowed him a little too far. His eyes were glassy and unfocused when Dean opened the car door. Sam blinked a few times and slowly levered himself out of the seat.
He stared at his brother a minute and then broke into a wide grin, almost as if he was seeing him for the first time tonight.] Hey, Dean!
[Hey... they were at Dean's place! When did... that happen? Confused again, he looked back at his brother.]
[For a second, Sam's grin actually made him smile a little. At least, until his cheerful Hey, Dean!, like they hadn't just been riding in a car together. Did he manage to forget the entirety of the last fifteen minutes?
Awesome. Even though he should be used to it, he hated these little moments where Sam did a fantastic job reminding him of just how sheets-to-the-wind he actually was.
You know what? Never mind. At least he wasn't in a pissy mood. Maybe if he forgot everything that just happened, it'd be that much longer before he figured out what was going on.
The smile returned, but smaller than a moment ago.]
Red Sox against the Royals. Kansas City's gonna smoke their asses. Hurry up, dude, or you're gonna miss the first inning while your smelly ass is in the shower.
[All things considered, Sam was in a great mood. Ultimately, forgetting was just a lot easier than trying to hold onto things. Especially when they were bad things like worrying or being pissed at his brother. He couldn't remember why he should be pissed, but he had the distinct impression he should.
He scowled at the 'smelly' remark and gave Dean a half-hearted swat on the arm.] Shut up, Dean.
[Sam teetered on his feet for a second and then made his way determinedly toward the front door of the apartment building.]
[He shifted forward for a second, as though to reach out and catch Sam before he crashed to the ground, but restrained himself. He could get by fine on his feet, which was a definite step up from a minute ago. The less he acted like something was wrong, the easier it would be to pretend everything was alright.
Still, he eyed Sam's back warily as he followed, and tugged the lobby doors closed behind them.]
[Sam determinedly stabbed at the elevator button with his finger. While they waited he considered the question. A year ago, he'd have made some vegetarian demands and insisted it was good for them. That seemed like another lifetime. Someone else's lifetime.]
Sausage. [He answered finally.] And extra cheese.
[He stared at the elevator doors and frowned, confused. Why did he feel like he was forgetting something?]
[Well, at least he got that right. Last time he was over, he forgot to press the button. That's a good sign, right? There was a humming and the slow sound of metal sliding against metal as their less-than-perfect elevator drifted down toward them.
He furrowed his brow at Sam's answer. For some reason, it annoyed him. Maybe because it wasn't Sam. No cracks about how he was going to go into cardiac arrest at forty, not even the slightest inclination toward health conscientiousness. Nothing.]
You plan on demolishing the whole thing yourself?
[The doors slid open, and he stepped in. Jabbed a button so worn down, it didn't even show a number anymore.]
[Sam shuffled into the elevator after Dean and leaned against the wall as the doors slid closed. The elevator made him nervous on his best days and today really wasn't one of his best days. He inched a little closer to his brother as the thing creaked up toward Dean's floor.
Dean's question finally registered in his mind and he blinked, shaking his head slowly. One hand came up to rest against his stomach lightly without thinking about it. God, he would probably die if he tried to eat a whole pizza after so long.] No. No, not the whole thing. I promise.
[Without even realizing it, a hand shot out to give Sam's shoulder a squeeze, and then he crossed his arms again. Just an instinctual gesture from back in the days when Sam was a head shorter than him, and terrified of weird and random things.
Like germs.
He missed that Sam with a ferocity that actually ached.]
Man, you need to put on a little weight. You look about one strong wind away from the Gulf.
[He shook his head, and the doors slid open again. He felt around in his pockets for his keys, and before they even began to jingle, Colt started barking. He smirked.]
[Sam smiled a little when Dean squeezed his shoulder. When they weren't fighting, Sam really liked having his brother around. Missed him. Hell, he missed the Sam he used to be.
He blinked at the comment on his weight and shrugged. He forgot to eat most of the time. When he remembered, it didn't seem important.
Sam followed Dean out of the elevator and paused in the hallway. He did a slow turn of confusion, looking around for the source of the barking. The hell?]
[He fought to get the key in the lock- it stuck sometimes, and glanced over his shoulder at Sam's question. What?
Oh, right. The barking. Last time Sam was over, Colt wasn't around. Whether he'd been in the bedroom, or Jo had him for the weekend, he couldn't remember. Damn, that was a while ago. How long had it been since Sam's been over?]
Oh, right.
[He jiggled the lock, and shoved the door open.]
We got a--
[He was cut off by a golden waist-tall blur that bounced out of the apartment in great leaps and bounds, licking Dean's hand, going straight for Sam, hopping up to put his front paws on his chest, licked his face, and then took off back inside the apartment.
[Sam staggered backwards into the wall of the hallway when he was doggy tackled. He blinked at having his face licked, torn between delight and confusion. Damn. He'd always wanted a dog.]
Yeah... yeah, you do.
[He pushed himself up and approached the door cautiously, uncertain if he'd be bowled over again or not. He peeked inside to see where it was.]
[It was either a dog or a wookie, and Cas reminded him their lease did have an anti-wookie clause. Which sucks, a wookie butler would have been awesome. He pushed in, shaking his head. Colt's tail wagged hard enough to send his rear end in a few different directions, and he ruffled the golden retriever's hair before nodding Sam in.]
Shut the door behind you or he'll take off and bark at the elevator.
[A wookie would be cool, no lie. Sam would hate to get tackled by one, though. A dog was more his speed.
He pushed the door closed and wandered closer to the excited pup. The shower was temporarily forgotten while he reached a hand out to be sniffed and licked. Hopefully he didn't end up on the floor with a pile of excited, blond fluff on top of him.] Hey there...
[Now that the initial OHMYGOD YOU'RE HOME was over, Colt calmed a little, but his tail still wagged like a maniac, and he coated Sam's hand with excited adolescent puppy slobber in his frantic need to lick and sniff. Dean shook his head, amused, as he moved to the fridge. Reached for a beer, then thought better of it. The last thing Sam needed was something else circulating with the mess of chemicals firing off in his brain.
He took a soda, and held one out for Sam, too.]
I thought you'd have seen 'em last time you were over, but he must've been gone. Cas is about one step away from teaching him to fetch beer from the fridge- bastard's smart.
[But he'd be crap against an intruder. Someone could break in, and Colt would roll over and sit pretty trying to get a treat.
On second thought, that was fine with him. Dobermans freaked him out. So did rottweilers.]
He moved through the apartment- man, this place was a shithole- toward the bedroom. Not much better in there, either, and of course Sam didn't have a dufflebag or something. Screw it. He grabbed a kitchen trash bag, began to stuff in articles without even really looking at them. If one or two of Ruby's got mixed in, well, fuck it. They'll just throw it out later. He'll rewash the same two outfits if he has to, until they can buy Sam some better gear.
He stomped back into the living room, met Sam's eyes for the first time since bursting in this joint, trash bag gripped tightly in one hand. He held up a finger.]
Gonna say this one time, Sam. You're getting in the car. Now, whether you walk there yourself or I carry you is entirely up to you, but we're not playing any games.
[Sam used to be big. He was still tall, but now... Well, between the drugs and the inability ( ... )
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And thank heaven for small favors.
The fact that there's an open spot right in front of the building he's taking as a sign that he's doing the right thing. He opens Sam's door for him, mostly to gauge how rickety on his feet he was. He's hoping the car trip over would be enough to grant him a little sobriety, but considering the amount Sam probably took and the shortness of the trip, it's not looking to be a remarkably overwhelming possibility.
Too bad Cas isn't off of work until later on tonight- having an extra set of hands, eyes, and ears would be just wonderful right about now. Someone to keep Sam occupied and engaged while Dean took the necessary precautions for a long-term stay.]
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He stared at his brother a minute and then broke into a wide grin, almost as if he was seeing him for the first time tonight.] Hey, Dean!
[Hey... they were at Dean's place! When did... that happen? Confused again, he looked back at his brother.]
There a game on today?
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Awesome. Even though he should be used to it, he hated these little moments where Sam did a fantastic job reminding him of just how sheets-to-the-wind he actually was.
You know what? Never mind. At least he wasn't in a pissy mood. Maybe if he forgot everything that just happened, it'd be that much longer before he figured out what was going on.
The smile returned, but smaller than a moment ago.]
Red Sox against the Royals. Kansas City's gonna smoke their asses. Hurry up, dude, or you're gonna miss the first inning while your smelly ass is in the shower.
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He scowled at the 'smelly' remark and gave Dean a half-hearted swat on the arm.] Shut up, Dean.
[Sam teetered on his feet for a second and then made his way determinedly toward the front door of the apartment building.]
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Still, he eyed Sam's back warily as he followed, and tugged the lobby doors closed behind them.]
What do you want on the pizza, Sasquatch?
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Sausage. [He answered finally.] And extra cheese.
[He stared at the elevator doors and frowned, confused. Why did he feel like he was forgetting something?]
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He furrowed his brow at Sam's answer. For some reason, it annoyed him. Maybe because it wasn't Sam. No cracks about how he was going to go into cardiac arrest at forty, not even the slightest inclination toward health conscientiousness. Nothing.]
You plan on demolishing the whole thing yourself?
[The doors slid open, and he stepped in. Jabbed a button so worn down, it didn't even show a number anymore.]
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Dean's question finally registered in his mind and he blinked, shaking his head slowly. One hand came up to rest against his stomach lightly without thinking about it. God, he would probably die if he tried to eat a whole pizza after so long.] No. No, not the whole thing. I promise.
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Like germs.
He missed that Sam with a ferocity that actually ached.]
Man, you need to put on a little weight. You look about one strong wind away from the Gulf.
[He shook his head, and the doors slid open again. He felt around in his pockets for his keys, and before they even began to jingle, Colt started barking. He smirked.]
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He blinked at the comment on his weight and shrugged. He forgot to eat most of the time. When he remembered, it didn't seem important.
Sam followed Dean out of the elevator and paused in the hallway. He did a slow turn of confusion, looking around for the source of the barking. The hell?]
Dean...?
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Oh, right. The barking. Last time Sam was over, Colt wasn't around. Whether he'd been in the bedroom, or Jo had him for the weekend, he couldn't remember. Damn, that was a while ago. How long had it been since Sam's been over?]
Oh, right.
[He jiggled the lock, and shoved the door open.]
We got a--
[He was cut off by a golden waist-tall blur that bounced out of the apartment in great leaps and bounds, licking Dean's hand, going straight for Sam, hopping up to put his front paws on his chest, licked his face, and then took off back inside the apartment.
Oh, good. The dog's hyper and riled up.]
Dog.
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Yeah... yeah, you do.
[He pushed himself up and approached the door cautiously, uncertain if he'd be bowled over again or not. He peeked inside to see where it was.]
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Shut the door behind you or he'll take off and bark at the elevator.
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He pushed the door closed and wandered closer to the excited pup. The shower was temporarily forgotten while he reached a hand out to be sniffed and licked. Hopefully he didn't end up on the floor with a pile of excited, blond fluff on top of him.] Hey there...
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He took a soda, and held one out for Sam, too.]
I thought you'd have seen 'em last time you were over, but he must've been gone. Cas is about one step away from teaching him to fetch beer from the fridge- bastard's smart.
[But he'd be crap against an intruder. Someone could break in, and Colt would roll over and sit pretty trying to get a treat.
On second thought, that was fine with him. Dobermans freaked him out. So did rottweilers.]
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