[AU] two worlds, a lot of demons, and a new set of problems

[gavemea_45]

It's still hard to believe it's over; that the yellow-eyed demonic bastard they'd spent their whole lives hunting is finally dead.

Sam figures it'll sink in eventually. Given everything else -- right now he's still pretty numb.

He's also desperately tired, but that doesn't matter. There's something he needs to do, and he can't afford to delay.

He waits until they've settled in for the night, and then waits still longer. Once Dean's been asleep for half an hour, Sam picks up his messenger bag -- already stuffed with books and his computer -- and heads straight for the bar.

He orders black coffee and snags a table with a good view of both doors and the stairs, then pulls out the first of the old texts and starts to search through it.

There's work to do.

Comments

[pacificator]

She purses her lips and nods, glance flickering down. "I get it," she says. "Your side, and his, too. There's not a damn thing I wouldn't do if it were Waverly."

[gavemea_45]

"And I bet she'd say the same. Just like I do." Sam reaches for the whiskey and splashes a little more into his glass, letting the burn wash over the tightness in his throat, just for an instant or two.

"Anyway, I figure that's probably also part of why your gun reacted to me like it did. But I'm not a revenant. Just... resurrected."

[pacificator]

"Makes as much sense as anything else."

For a second, she wants to ask where he went, if he went anywhere at all. If he even remembers. But that's probably rude, right?

[gavemea_45]

"Which isn't all that much, usually, I know." Sam's tone is dry as desert sand. "All of this stuff is weird."

[pacificator]

"Really fucking weird," she agrees. "Demons, magic guns, immortal gunslingers... it's a lot."

[gavemea_45]

"Witches, revenants, curses," he adds. "And then there's all the other kinds of stuff that we end up dealing with. I guess maybe you don't have all that in your triangle, though?"

[pacificator]

"If they're there, I haven't dealt with them yet," she tells him. "Or maybe they're just avoiding the heir, too, like the revs."

[gavemea_45]

"Could be either. Depends on how that border of yours works, I guess." Sam frowns, considering. "No ghosts, even?"

[pacificator]

"Not so far."

She crosses her fingers and presses her lips together. "There was one rev that hung out in mirrors and killed people who'd done bad things, does that count?"

[gavemea_45]

Sam's jaw sets in tight lines. "Sure does. Vengeful spirit kind of thing. Any chance her name was Mary?"

[pacificator]

"Uh, no."

The blade of the razor biting into her skin, Waverly's desperate face.

(But everyone hates you, Wynonna!
I'm aware!)

"His name was August Hamilton. And he was one of the Seven."

[gavemea_45]

"Leveraging the same kind of energy though, maybe." Sam scowls at the thought. "Glad he's gone. We ran into something like that with some girls doing the old game, you know, the urban legend thing? Look into a mirror and chant 'Bloody Mary' three times to summon her? Just most people never realize it could actually happen."

[pacificator]

"You couldn't have paid me to try that shit when I was a teenager," she says. "Not that I was getting invited to any slumber parties, but. Still."

[gavemea_45]

“Means you have good sense,” Sam points out. “Seriously, some of the things people do, it’s insane.”

[pacificator]

Wynonna shakes her head like she's trying to clear her ears.

"You are literally the first and only person to ever say I have good sense."

[gavemea_45]

He shrugs. “So?”

[pacificator]

"Not the best judge of people, are you, moptop?"

Then again, in his spot, she'd be just as desperate to think well of someone offering to help her. "But you're right about people doing stupid things."

[gavemea_45]

He runs his hand defensively through his hair and gives her a disbelieving look. “Moptop? Seriously?”

Sam ignores the rest of her sarcastic remark to focus on the salient point. “But yeah. If I had a nickel for every time we had to pull someone out of trouble…”

[pacificator]

Her lips twitch as he reacts to her teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. You'd have enough spare change to run a jukebox all night."

[gavemea_45]

He catches a mischievous sparkle in her eye and huffs out a breath, letting his hand drop. “Something like that, anyway.”

[pacificator]

"Sounds like the Ghost River Triangle would be like a vacation for you."

She shrugs and grabs another pretzel. "Revenants and witches aside. Also Dolls. Who isn't supernatural – I think – aside from being supernaturally uncool."

[gavemea_45]

“He’s a fed. Goes with the territory. Just like the bad shoes.” He pushes a couple of the snack bowls a little closer to her.

[pacificator]

"He's a marshal," she corrects, reaching for the snacks as they come closer. "And was a Marine. I think."

[gavemea_45]

“Ah.” That seems to explain a lot to him, to judge from his expression. “Our Dad was a Marine, too.”

[pacificator]

He a bundle of laughs, too? she almost asks, before she remembers. "Dolls doesn't take about it much. But he sure as hell fights like one."