(no subject)
Apr. 2nd, 2008 09:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gavemea_45[After this.]
He watches in silence as Andrew makes his unsteady way up the stairs. Once the other guy is out of sight, Sam turns away and goes straight to the bar.
The tequila he orders is delivered with an addition of two packages. Sam frowns over the note that came with them for a few seconds before pushing everything to one side and reaching for his drink.
He picks it up-- and then slowly sets it down again, untasted. Sam leans his elbows on the wood and buries his head in his hands.
I trusted him!
He'd said as much to Dean months ago, when they first started looking for a way back to Milliways. Looking for information; looking for help.
If it were only his own situation, it wouldn't even matter that much. He'll deal. What makes it worse is that he'd confided in Andrew about other things, too.
How could I have been so fucking blind?!
There'd been plenty of signs, now that he thinks about it.
"Oh, I get that... you don't even know. Pretending..."
"You have no idea how well I know all about that.
He'd never pushed. No, he'd always ignored it, letting it all pass. Giving Andrew -- giving his friend -- the time he seemed to need.
His friend.
I thought he was my friend. I thought we were on the same side. Was I wrong about all of it, this whole time?
It's not like he can ask anyone. He's sure not gonna talk to any of Andrew's friends about it until he figures this thing out, not even Mac.
And there's no way he can talk to Dean about this, either, not yet. Not until things are better. Until that happens, there's no way he's gonna add anything at all to what his brother's dealing with.
Once he got through tearing a strip off me for being stupid, Dad would have known what to do. Me, I just keep screwing up-- I can't figure out how to get through to Dean, I can't get anything right--
But there's no one else, is there?
With a sigh, Sam gathers up his stuff and heads for the door.
Dad, wherever you are... I miss you.
He watches in silence as Andrew makes his unsteady way up the stairs. Once the other guy is out of sight, Sam turns away and goes straight to the bar.
The tequila he orders is delivered with an addition of two packages. Sam frowns over the note that came with them for a few seconds before pushing everything to one side and reaching for his drink.
He picks it up-- and then slowly sets it down again, untasted. Sam leans his elbows on the wood and buries his head in his hands.
I trusted him!
He'd said as much to Dean months ago, when they first started looking for a way back to Milliways. Looking for information; looking for help.
If it were only his own situation, it wouldn't even matter that much. He'll deal. What makes it worse is that he'd confided in Andrew about other things, too.
How could I have been so fucking blind?!
There'd been plenty of signs, now that he thinks about it.
"Oh, I get that... you don't even know. Pretending..."
"You have no idea how well I know all about that.
He'd never pushed. No, he'd always ignored it, letting it all pass. Giving Andrew -- giving his friend -- the time he seemed to need.
His friend.
I thought he was my friend. I thought we were on the same side. Was I wrong about all of it, this whole time?
It's not like he can ask anyone. He's sure not gonna talk to any of Andrew's friends about it until he figures this thing out, not even Mac.
And there's no way he can talk to Dean about this, either, not yet. Not until things are better. Until that happens, there's no way he's gonna add anything at all to what his brother's dealing with.
Once he got through tearing a strip off me for being stupid, Dad would have known what to do. Me, I just keep screwing up-- I can't figure out how to get through to Dean, I can't get anything right--
But there's no one else, is there?
With a sigh, Sam gathers up his stuff and heads for the door.
Dad, wherever you are... I miss you.
