That one hour had quickly turned to two as Sam got lost in just what he was doing during his time away. He needed to put that distance between himself and Dean, knowing that it wouldn't be much longer before he saw his brother as the very thing he'd been craving during their time together. Finding a demon hadn't been a problem, and when she hadn't been willing to share the wealth, he hadn't hesitated to take it for himself, using his newly amped abilities to make sure she didn't tell a soul after
( ... )
Can do. iirc it isn't too long a journey anyway. Half a day at most.ancientgiftSeptember 25 2010, 07:54:10 UTC
"Keep avoiding them, I guess. They don't want me there and it doesn't matter if I miss you guys or not; I'm not gonna start screwing things up for you all." It's not entirely the truth, but he isn't about to start sharing that just yet. Other than the Dean's, there really isn't any reason for him to want to go near the house, so he doesn't. It doesn't help that the place seems to be a meeting ground for angels too.
"I've been staying in a building just out of town. You'll always be welcome there." An invite that's that much easier to make given the lack of warding on the building. He hasn't laid down the usual salt lines and devils traps, knowing they'd be nothing but a hindrance if Ruby ever bothered to show her face again. That and his late night snacks.
"I don't think you could screw anything up worse than an angel," Dean says, trying to aim for helpful. Sure, it can get tricky order-wise with two Sams here, but he's not sorry to see the kid, even if there's definitely gonna be a learning period here distinguishing this one from the other one, just from when he walks in through a door. "I'd offer to encourage 'em to be more accepting of you, but the other Sam doesn't like me getting like that
( ... )
"How well do you think an angel's gonna take to having me around? Honestly?" Since his arrival, Sam's done his best to avoid finding out that answer first hand. But he knows, sooner or later, that choice will get taken away from him. Whether it's through his own actions or those of the angels themselves. The short time he spent with the other Sam is enough for him to know that they only get along thanks to the spring cleaning job one of them did on his blood. It's something he refuses to let happen to him too. Not when it's the one thing keeping him around these days.
"The other Sam doesn't want you to make decisions for yourself?" He knows he's warping Dean's statement a little, but he can't help it. "Do you really think that's fair? You're still your own man. You get to choose what you can and can't do. Not him. Not anyone
( ... )
He doesn't answer that question. Honestly? Probably not that well. They have a plan and anything demon related is usually on the wrong end of it, even if it's Sam. Dean holds the motel door open for Sam, glancing in the dark room. Looks clean to him, although there's a weird smell that he can't account for. It smells inexplicably like lemon cough drops. He looks back at Sam when he asks that question.
...It's complicated. He's not even sure how to explain it.
"Y'know, you sound just like him," Dean remarks as he slides into the room after his kid brother. Fine, second kid brother. Maybe that name tag thing wasn't such a crap idea after all. "I'm kinda stuck like this, I figure it could be worse if it was anyone else I gotta keep tabs on
( ... )
The comparison Dean's making doesn't sit too well with him, despite it being a positive one. He doesn't want to be seen in the same light as the other Sam, for better or worse. And having it come from Dean himself makes things that much worse. His only reaction though is a slight frown, which is mostly hidden as he wipes his fingers clean in the fabric of his jeans
( ... )
Dean doesn't see what the problem is. "It's kinda my job last time I checked," he shoots back, some of that old color coming back into his voice. "And last I checked, I'm the guy who can't die, so it's not your call."
Or, actually, it kinda was, if Sam only gave the word. It's as easy as ordering the proto-demon to back down, just a couple of words and that's all it takes. Dean would do it, even if he'd hate having to step down like that and it'd kill him to let Sam run off without him. Normally he's fine with the freak obedience but thinking about scenarios like that suddenly points out that it's not sunshine and roses. The problem is he cares way too much about what happens and that probably wasn't what White-Eyes had planned when he turned him. He doesn't think he was supposed to care, not like that. That's the problem with not finishing what he started
( ... )
"No. Your only 'job' is to be my brother, man. You may not've died again so far, but you're not immortal. And I'm not gonna sit back and let you get hurt because of me. Not again." It's the very reason he and Dean were ever sent to Hell in the first place. One death, one trade-in, and two souls ended up being the payment. He's not putting either of them through that again, even with his current deal in effect.
Any lightness in his tone before is long gone thanks to the topic, which is why his words sound a little more clipped when he continues. It's an anger that's long since been directed toward the both of them since the moment he first found out the truth about Cold Oak and Dean's deal.
"You're a demon, Dean. They wont want your blood. So we're using mine, end of story." And even if any of them are able to make out the taint in his blood, he's pretty confident that they'll still come out to investigate. There's more than enough human left in him to get their attention. "Now are you coming or what?"
“Yeah, I’m coming,” Dean says, pursing his corpse’s lips. It’s tempting to jump right back to the argument. The whole brother thing? He figures if he’s a good brother, he’ll do whatever it takes to protect Sam and it’s kind of a full-time gig there. He figures aside from dismemberment and devil’s traps, there’s not a whole lot out there that can stop him cold. The whole getting hurt thing was kinda the point…and with White-Eye’s instructions, it’s not like he can’t ride it out. Dean shrugs, trying to roll with it. He gets Sam’s priority are family - even dead family - but he wishes sometimes the kid would think of himself for a change.
Dean moves around the bed, not a fan of Sam’s blood being used to lure in those vampires and hoping he’d at least be close enough to step in as soon as he sees the first one charging for Sam’s balls. He’s ready whenever Sam is. It’s one of the bonuses of being a dead man walking; it’s not like he’s got much (okay, any) stuff to drag around with him.
Heading over to the door, he pauses for a moment there, looking back over toward Dean. Despite all the preparations he'd made, he knows he's fallen short in making sure the same is true for Dean. He waits until he's pulled the door open and started to lead the way further down the street, his blade tucked away and out of sight.
"When we get close, stay down wind and make sure you can't be seen, alright? I'll get as many of them as possible out into the open. Then you need to move in as quickly as you can." Knowing just how well his own Dean used to respond to being told what to do, he's already frowning at himself as he gives out his plans. Any other Dean there might tell him where to shove it, but this isn't any other Dean, and the few times they've already spent around each other has only ever helped to prove the point.
"You know you can tell me if you're not happy with any of this. I want to know what you think."
Dean chews on that for a second, biting the inside of his cheek as he tries to think of a way to approach this. Tact wasn't ever much of a strong point for him and these days he's found it frustrating since it feels like a big old time waster. It's so - so human to pussyfoot around each other. That's now how he was brought up on that cadaver table, Dean fighting off the urge to sneer. Behave. He's trying to be on his best behavior.
It's harder than it looks. Sam's real determined to keep throwing himself at the freaks out there and normally he wouldn't care if it was some other hunter. They're a dime a dozen. Y'know, basically human, which doesn't give 'em a free pass in his book. But it doesn't matter to Dean if there's one Sam or two or three. All he knows is he looks at Sam and he can't just lump him in with all the other humans
( ... )
The suggestion actually catches him off-guard, and it takes him a solid few minutes before he's able to do anything other than just stare at his brother. He'd been expecting another disagreement about him using himself as bait, or maybe even a suggestion about Dean being the one to flush them out. But not this. Not an actual retreat.
"Weren't you the one who suggested a hunt in the first place?" Granted, it seemed like it'd been mentioned more as a way to unwind some tension; something that'd happened as soon as he'd disappeared off that hour to go feed. He eventually grins, actually seeming a little amused by it all. He's not happy about the idea of calling of the hunt this late in to the game. But if that's what Dean wants, he's not about to ignore it. "You couldn't have said that before we left?"
...it probably helps that he knows he can always come back later to finish the job.
"That was before you told me you were gonna be bait. I figured we'd just snatch a human to pull that job," Dean admits.
Okay, maybe he didn't think it through all the way. He thought killing something would make Sam happy, his own personal feelings on killing aside, and he could've gone with it until Sam turned around and declared he was putting himself on the line. Apparently Dean's moral ground these days was he was fine with whatever murder or torture Sam might want - or need - to resort to, so long as it didn't involve hurting himself.
Maybe Sam would feel better if Dean just went out on his own and brought back a vampire to soften up. At least that way Dean would feel better about being close enough to stop the thing if it made eyes at Sam. He figures if one of those things got stupid and tried to take a bite outta him that they'd get a real surprise.
Dean looks up, squinting in the afternoon sun. From what little he's brushed up on vampires again after dying, he figures they got a few hours before they get too active.
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"I've been staying in a building just out of town. You'll always be welcome there." An invite that's that much easier to make given the lack of warding on the building. He hasn't laid down the usual salt lines and devils traps, knowing they'd be nothing but a hindrance if Ruby ever bothered to show her face again. That and his late night snacks.
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"The other Sam doesn't want you to make decisions for yourself?" He knows he's warping Dean's statement a little, but he can't help it. "Do you really think that's fair? You're still your own man. You get to choose what you can and can't do. Not him. Not anyone ( ... )
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...It's complicated. He's not even sure how to explain it.
"Y'know, you sound just like him," Dean remarks as he slides into the room after his kid brother. Fine, second kid brother. Maybe that name tag thing wasn't such a crap idea after all. "I'm kinda stuck like this, I figure it could be worse if it was anyone else I gotta keep tabs on ( ... )
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Or, actually, it kinda was, if Sam only gave the word. It's as easy as ordering the proto-demon to back down, just a couple of words and that's all it takes. Dean would do it, even if he'd hate having to step down like that and it'd kill him to let Sam run off without him. Normally he's fine with the freak obedience but thinking about scenarios like that suddenly points out that it's not sunshine and roses. The problem is he cares way too much about what happens and that probably wasn't what White-Eyes had planned when he turned him. He doesn't think he was supposed to care, not like that. That's the problem with not finishing what he started ( ... )
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Any lightness in his tone before is long gone thanks to the topic, which is why his words sound a little more clipped when he continues. It's an anger that's long since been directed toward the both of them since the moment he first found out the truth about Cold Oak and Dean's deal.
"You're a demon, Dean. They wont want your blood. So we're using mine, end of story." And even if any of them are able to make out the taint in his blood, he's pretty confident that they'll still come out to investigate. There's more than enough human left in him to get their attention. "Now are you coming or what?"
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Dean moves around the bed, not a fan of Sam’s blood being used to lure in those vampires and hoping he’d at least be close enough to step in as soon as he sees the first one charging for Sam’s balls. He’s ready whenever Sam is. It’s one of the bonuses of being a dead man walking; it’s not like he’s got much (okay, any) stuff to drag around with him.
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"When we get close, stay down wind and make sure you can't be seen, alright? I'll get as many of them as possible out into the open. Then you need to move in as quickly as you can." Knowing just how well his own Dean used to respond to being told what to do, he's already frowning at himself as he gives out his plans. Any other Dean there might tell him where to shove it, but this isn't any other Dean, and the few times they've already spent around each other has only ever helped to prove the point.
"You know you can tell me if you're not happy with any of this. I want to know what you think."
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It's harder than it looks. Sam's real determined to keep throwing himself at the freaks out there and normally he wouldn't care if it was some other hunter. They're a dime a dozen. Y'know, basically human, which doesn't give 'em a free pass in his book. But it doesn't matter to Dean if there's one Sam or two or three. All he knows is he looks at Sam and he can't just lump him in with all the other humans ( ... )
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"Weren't you the one who suggested a hunt in the first place?" Granted, it seemed like it'd been mentioned more as a way to unwind some tension; something that'd happened as soon as he'd disappeared off that hour to go feed. He eventually grins, actually seeming a little amused by it all. He's not happy about the idea of calling of the hunt this late in to the game. But if that's what Dean wants, he's not about to ignore it. "You couldn't have said that before we left?"
...it probably helps that he knows he can always come back later to finish the job.
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Okay, maybe he didn't think it through all the way. He thought killing something would make Sam happy, his own personal feelings on killing aside, and he could've gone with it until Sam turned around and declared he was putting himself on the line. Apparently Dean's moral ground these days was he was fine with whatever murder or torture Sam might want - or need - to resort to, so long as it didn't involve hurting himself.
Maybe Sam would feel better if Dean just went out on his own and brought back a vampire to soften up. At least that way Dean would feel better about being close enough to stop the thing if it made eyes at Sam. He figures if one of those things got stupid and tried to take a bite outta him that they'd get a real surprise.
Dean looks up, squinting in the afternoon sun. From what little he's brushed up on vampires again after dying, he figures they got a few hours before they get too active.
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