[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

[gavemea_45]

"There's no way to break that border of yours, is there?" Sam asks. "We thought the gate was protected until they ripped the railroad line apart."

[pacificator]

"I don't know. Probably some way, but fuck if I know what it is."

Every border can be crossed eventually, right? "But it probably has something to do with the curse."

[gavemea_45]

"Seems likely." Sam picks up his glass again and toys with it, eyeing her carefully. "Five generations, huh?"

[pacificator]

She nods. "Wyatt," she says, counting them off. "Josiah. Edwin, the One-Year Wonder. Ward. Wi – "

Wynonna cuts herself off, hard. "Me," she says, instead, bearing down on the word like she's trying to tattoo it into reality.

[gavemea_45]

He’d have had to be deaf not to catch that slip, but it’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk about it. Sam doesn’t push. “Okay.” He gives her a wry smile. “Guess we’re just gonna have to see that you break it.”

[pacificator]

"I like that 'we.' Very solid. Very confident. Good stuff."

She wrinkles her face up and gives him a wry look. "Sorry about the – before. Peacemaker. By the way."

[gavemea_45]

“It’s okay. Given what you’re dealing with, I get it,” Sam assures her.

[pacificator]

"Still. Kinda rude."

And there's definitely something weird about him. Peacemaker wouldn't react that way just to someone who'd been marked, especially if the demon in question had already been vanquished, would it?

She looks down at his papers and books, and moves some aside so her glass isn't resting directly on them. "Although you can never be too careful, right?"

[gavemea_45]

“Being careless — or too trusting — is a great way to get killed.” Something about his tone and expression is grimly certain.

“So it’s okay. Really. As long as you don’t start pointing your gun at me again.”

[pacificator]

She laughs and lifts her glass to him in a wry salute. "Cupcake, nobody has ever accused me of being too trusting."

[gavemea_45]

Sam chuckles. “Guess you’re safe then.”

[pacificator]

"It's worked so far," she agrees.

"So, you and your brother. You get into this because of your parents?"

[gavemea_45]

“Yeah.” Sam looks down at his notes, then back at her. “The demon killed my mom in my nursery when I was six months old. Everything changed then, pretty much.”

[pacificator]

She watches the way he looks down and back up again. "I'm sorry."

Six months old. He's been saddled with this his whole life, just like her. "Demons are such assholes, seriously."

[gavemea_45]

“Thanks. And yeah, they really are.” He reaches over to clink his glass against hers.

[pacificator]

She huffs a breath and lifts her glass. "I'll always drink to that."

And to most other things, but that's neither here nor there.

[gavemea_45]

“This - what’d you call it? Black badge?” Sam looks curious. “Do they deal with —“

Bad choice of words. He switches, fast. “— I mean, help get rid of demons and stuff like you’re handling? Really?”

[pacificator]

"Yeah."

At least, that's what Dolls is here for. Right? She sips at her whiskey, musing. "They're pretty goddamn shady, though."

[gavemea_45]

“How so?” It’s still hard for him to believe that something like that could even exist.

[pacificator]

"Everything's classified to hell and back. I basically got shanghaied into working with them when one of their agents showed up in Purgatory the week I came home. Looking into a bunch of revenant murders and other creepy shit."

She frowns at her whiskey. "Deputy Marshal Dolls."

Who is... her boss. Maybe... a friend? But definitely hiding shit from her.

[gavemea_45]

“Wait, if — you mean murders by revenants, not murders of them, right?” Sam eyes her warily.

[pacificator]

"By."

She thinks of a funeral she'd walked home for; a grave in Gus's beautiful garden. "Definitely by."

[gavemea_45]

“Well, if there’s a whole agency or division or whatever, can’t they help you with corralling all the ones you’ve got to kill?”

It seems obvious to him, anyway.

[pacificator]

"They send us ammo, they send us equipment..."

She fiddles with her glass and shrugs. "Dolls sends them reports. Samples. But it's just us."

[gavemea_45]

"Uh-huh." He sounds more than a little dour. "Here's a shotgun, try not to get killed, we're watching to make sure you don't go nuts?"