(Untitled)

[unchosen_son]

He hadn't slept. He didn't want to sleep and he was so sick and tired of the way Dean kept looking at him like he was about to snap at any minute. He wasn't in the best of moods and he'd just snuck away with the alcohol left from the funeral and muttered a quiet, "I'm going to the Hub," to the hut at large, as if they could hear him and just made

Comments

[texas_forever]

It's not the first time Tim's seen Sam in the Hub and he's hoping real hard that this doesn't mean what it'd meant the last time. People disappear in this place, sure and Tim's dealt with a fair amount of his own, but he's already gotten the idea that Sam's dealt with way more than he has.

Tim wanders over to him slowly, hands stuffed in the front pockets of his jeans before nudging Sam's shoulder with his forearm and nodding down at the bottle. "You 'kay, man?"

[unchosen_son]

Sam didn't draw his gun and pull it on Tim, which was helpful seeing as he'd already got into enough trouble doing that the once. As it was, he still turned a wary gaze Tim's way with a warning about not surprising him on his lips. "I don't think 'okay' exactly works," he mumbled around the neck of the bottle.

[texas_forever]

He arches an eyebrow at the look Sam throws him, but doesn't back off any, just glances at the bottle and finds himself really wanting one of his own.

Turning, he looks back over his shoulder like there might be a fridge full of bottles just like it waiting for him. He's not surprised to see that there isn't and sighs inwardly before nodding down at Sam's. "Got any more o' them?"

[unchosen_son]

Sam blinked heavily and reached down under the table to pry and root around, finding something else that was only a quarter full that he pulled to the table, letting it slosh around as he passed it to Tim. "I sort of just took whatever we had left."

[great_thief]

It's been awhile since Bela's seen Sam, and with good reason. Not that she's ever paid much attention to him in general, although lately (With the considerable help of her psychotherapist), she's wondering if there's not something more there, something she's overlooked. Both Dean and Sam have passion, but while Dean's seem to be born from anger and frustration, Sam's is from a genuine desire to help people. He's like some sort of exotic animal at the zoo, conspicuously placed amongst the more mundane exhibits.

She slides into the chair opposite Sam and smoothly crosses her legs. Forearms braced against the table, she doesn't wait for him to so much as acknowledge her before she says, firmly, "I lied to you." It's all part and partial to this 'brand new Bela' she's working on, a bit of psychiatric homework, if you will. Make an Effort to be More Forthright; there will be a pop quiz.

[unchosen_son]

Sam was gaping at Bela and he seriously wasn't sure what he was supposed to say in return. 'I know'? 'Not exactly in the top rank of things I care about right now'? All he could do was stare, really, and he blamed that on all the alcohol he'd been drinking so far that night. "Why're you coming clean?" he finally asked, words subdued and dull.

[great_thief]

"Call it turning over a new leaf," Bela quips in her proper accent, unwilling for the moment to clarify and preferring to behave as if her motivation is of no great consequence. She reaches for Sam's bottle and takes a quick sip from it without permission. Maybe she needs it, or maybe she simply likes taking from him. Difficult to tell.

"You look like shit," she adds, as if he is somehow unaware of that fact.

[unchosen_son]

Sam laughed at that, staring up at her like somehow, somehow he would look like a regular Prince Charming despite his lack of sleep and the shit he'd been going through ever since they'd found Ginger's body. "Really?" he asked, dubiously. "Good enough to sleep with?" he couldn't help asking sharply, giving her a Look to remind her that he'd walked in on something else she'd lied about.

Caroline. Whatever.

[loaded_wolf]

When Angua couldn't find Sam, she remembered what Dean had told her about him drinking. So she tried the Hub and was rewarded with the sight of a familiar mop of hair bent over a bottle of...gods, who ever really knew around here.

"Sam," Angua said, puncturing the sharpness of her voice with a smack to the back of his head. "What are you doing? I need you."

[unchosen_son]

Sam was probably sobering up, which just meant he had to drink more, and he blinked dazedly up at Angua...was that Angua? "Hey," he giggled drunkenly. "Blonde...you look like Angua. Do you know Angua? She's a werewolf, y'know. Well, not now. I don't think. Maybe I should ask Dean."

[loaded_wolf]

Angua grit her teeth, wanting to bodily drag him down to the waterfall and sober him up. What the hell was he thinking?

"Oh really, and what do you think Dean would say?"

[unchosen_son]

"Probably something about 'Sam'," and here, Sam began his very best Dean imitation, which was growly. Sort of really growly. "'Sam, you can't do this. You can't talk to Ruby! She wants you evil!'"

[neptune_sleuth]

Veronica hardened at the sight of him. Things between her and Sam had grown steadily easier in the last month or three, and there was some comfort in regaining his friendship, sure. She trusted less than she had the first time around, but wasn't that just the story of her life?

No, it wasn't him, it was the alcohol he was drinking that made her curl in at the edges. "Easy there, cowboy," she said, the usual warm teasing carrying a note of concern as she sauntered over to take a seat beside him. There'd been a funeral, she knew that much, and Sam had known the deceased, and this wasn't an uncommon reaction. So much drinking just made her nervous still. Old habits and everyone knew the rest.

[unchosen_son]

Sam felt, sometimes, like Veronica was about the only one who could lift him out of this. She wasn't attached to all of the Before, and she was still there. "It was half-started to begin with, I really haven't turned into that much of a lush," he promised, only half-lying because he had a couple more half-started bottles behind the bar in the event he needed them.

[neptune_sleuth]

She wasn't a tender sort of person. The softness came and went; things kept happening to remind her why the walls had gone up in the first place and why there was no call still to tear them down. Still she leaned forward in her seat and put her arms around him, letting herself get closer than she'd done in sometime. Rising from her seat, she leaned her head atop his for a moment. It was only possible when he was sitting like this, and even then, it took some effort, but it seemed important. "Better not turn into one at all," she cautioned. "I take it you're back from the funeral?"

[unchosen_son]

"That was days back, yeah," Sam said softly, staring at the alcohol and feeling all the tension bunch up in his shoulders. "I really haven't been able to sleep, since. I just...I keep thinking about the last conversation we had," he admitted, staring at the table. "Everything was fine, everything was normal and then, and then she was murdered."