Who: Rose Tyler, Sam Winchester What: Rose tells Sam about Lucifer's intrusions... BUT THEN CUTENESS HAPPENS. When: Day 1, late morning Where: Rose's room Status: Incomplete Warnings: N/A; will edit if needed.
Sam stirred when Rose turned over, dragging his hand around her tiny body. He groaned lightly and opened one eye, grasping the faintest threads of his half remembered dream. It wasn't a lot, but he remembered a pit of darkness - surrounded by echoing voices that knew too much and were far too vocal for their own good. But considering his whereabouts the last few days; light and busy as it was, he'd take any sleep he could get.
"Rose?" Sam whispered, voice groggy. "What's wrong?" An instinctive question.
It seemed like they hadn't had any peace at all lately. Ever since they finally hooked up. Before that? Sure, the house went to hell at least once a month (and he was beginning to come to grips with the supernatural lock down), but it was never this personal. Never so close to something he truly cared about. The case was progressing, adding new elements, familiar faces, and closing in.
And he was beginning to feel really really trapped.
"Sorry," Rose apologized automatically for waking him. She was actually quite poor at sharing a bed, always moving about and stealing the blankets. It was surprising that Sam got any sleep at all.
"It's nothin'," she lied. Rose didn't mean to keep secrets. They'd just been through disaster after disaster lately, and she really wanted to let Sam rest. "L'il bad dream, is all." Understatement of the decade. "Close your eyes, yea?"
Rose tried to relax into Sam's embrace. Remaining quiet, she took in the warmth of his body and breath. Despite all, his presence in the moment was soothing. Her heavy eyelids were tempted shut. When Rose realized she was falling asleep, though, her body quickly panicked, and she jolted back awake.
Poor Sam.
The blonde rolled onto her back, putting a hand over her face. She supposed she had to be honest, before Sam labeled her mad.
"I've been, um-" She again shifted, this time so they were facing each other. "I don't know 'ow t' really explain this, but I've been gettin' visits from Lucifer in my sleep." She gave him a look that begged him not to flip out.
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"Rose?" Sam whispered, voice groggy. "What's wrong?" An instinctive question.
It seemed like they hadn't had any peace at all lately. Ever since they finally hooked up. Before that? Sure, the house went to hell at least once a month (and he was beginning to come to grips with the supernatural lock down), but it was never this personal. Never so close to something he truly cared about. The case was progressing, adding new elements, familiar faces, and closing in.
And he was beginning to feel really really trapped.
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"It's nothin'," she lied. Rose didn't mean to keep secrets. They'd just been through disaster after disaster lately, and she really wanted to let Sam rest. "L'il bad dream, is all." Understatement of the decade. "Close your eyes, yea?"
She made no attempt to follow her own orders.
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"Are you sure?"
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Poor Sam.
The blonde rolled onto her back, putting a hand over her face. She supposed she had to be honest, before Sam labeled her mad.
"I've been, um-" She again shifted, this time so they were facing each other. "I don't know 'ow t' really explain this, but I've been gettin' visits from Lucifer in my sleep." She gave him a look that begged him not to flip out.
Reply
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