[Why is the bedroom so far away? It's an uncharitable thought, especially so in light of the memory Sam's been shown. (It will throw Dean, too, when he sees it, and Castiel needs to be prepared for that.) Castiel isn't limping anymore, which makes getting to the kitchen first infinitely easier. All things considered, though, he should probably talk to someone about the lingering pain in his chest. Eventually; right now, there were other things that demanded his attention.
It will take him a few minutes to get to the bedroom, Leppard at his heels. He doesn't say anything; he just walks in and sets down the beer he's brought. It's not much but it's probably better than any words he could come up with.]
[Sam's on his bed. Across the room from the tablet, which looks like it might have been thrown. Sam's jaw is tight, eyes closed and obviously trying not to pay too much attention to what's going on around him.]
[Which means that he jumps when the bottle is set down, reaching for a knife before his mind catches up that he's safe. For certain values there of. It still takes a moment for him to seem to register Castiel, knife sliding back under the pillow (and away from being accidentally jumped on by kittens) before he sits up.]
[He freezes at the knife, expression going from a carefully neutral concern to hardened wariness in no time flat. It's a moment after Sam slides it back under the pillow before Castiel comes back to himself.]
[To say that Sam's not taking this well is an understatement. It's partly anger, partly fear. And not being entirely certain where he was or who was coming for a moment there.]
[Sam sighs, checking the floor before he sits up and puts his feet down. Didn't want to step on Leppard by accident.]
... [Inara's eyes widen a little because that was just a bit past creepy. It's very disturbing, and she can't even imagine what it would have been like to actually have lived through something like that.]
[He doesn't even ask how she knows his brother. Dean always makes a point to meet the good-looking women.]
[The rest of it finally makes Sam pick up his tablet, looking weary and upset, but that's somewhat understandable, given the memory.]
I'll try to remember not to cuss about her if you're around. I know it's not the same goddess that you worship, most likely, but that's no excuse for me to be rude.
Fuck...hey. Sam. [What the hell was he even supposed to say? That he learned his brother died too? That he was brought back as a zombie and he had to kill him again? Was that even a comfort? Fuck if he knew.] Fuck this place.
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It will take him a few minutes to get to the bedroom, Leppard at his heels. He doesn't say anything; he just walks in and sets down the beer he's brought. It's not much but it's probably better than any words he could come up with.]
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[Which means that he jumps when the bottle is set down, reaching for a knife before his mind catches up that he's safe. For certain values there of. It still takes a moment for him to seem to register Castiel, knife sliding back under the pillow (and away from being accidentally jumped on by kittens) before he sits up.]
Cas. Hey.
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Sam. Do you need anything else?
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[Sam sighs, checking the floor before he sits up and puts his feet down. Didn't want to step on Leppard by accident.]
Right now? I could use those zombies back.
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Wǒde tiān, are you all right?
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I know cuss words when I hear them. [Even if he doesn't know Mandarin.] For some value of all right, yeah, I'm good.
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Actually, I said my god. Though if it would make you feel better, I could say a few choice words for you.
[Her eyebrows furrow.] That truly happened?
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[Not that Sam believes in God these days, but he tends to say such things reflexively, anyway.]
[He rubs his hand over his face and lets out a breath before nodding.]
Yeah. Yeah, it did.
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Hecate...they really picked a bad one for you.
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Yeah. Yeah, it really was.
I don't think I've ever heard anybody swear by one of the gods down here.
[Swear AT, certainly. Sam's done that himself. Swear by? That was new.]
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[Awkward. He's the first person to question that.] Eh, it's not by her exactly. Hecate's the goddess my people worship.
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[He doesn't even ask how she knows his brother. Dean always makes a point to meet the good-looking women.]
[The rest of it finally makes Sam pick up his tablet, looking weary and upset, but that's somewhat understandable, given the memory.]
I'll try to remember not to cuss about her if you're around. I know it's not the same goddess that you worship, most likely, but that's no excuse for me to be rude.
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[Audio is good. Audio means Sam doesn't have to look at the tablet. So his voice comes from a bit far away.]
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[Not okay. Nothing about that memory is okay, least of all it being shared with everybody and his their brother.]
It didn't stick.
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[There's a couple moments of silence before Sam says anything else.]
At the risk of sounding like a Monty Python sketch, he got better. And the world got more fucked up, but he's not dead anymore.
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We're not going to go into how often that sort of thing happens to us. I've lost track.
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