[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]

He'd switched over from tequila to take a swallow from his refreshed mug after asking that, and he deeply regrets it now as he chokes on coffee.

"Doc Holliday?" he sputters. "How?"

[pacificator]

"You know, sometimes you die of tuberculosis, sometimes you make a deal with a witch for agelessness and health and wind up stuck in a well for a hundred years," Wynonna says, half a mumble into her own glass as she watches for his reactions.

"It happens."

[gavemea_45]

"Pretty powerful witch," Sam manages. He takes another swallow to clear his throat, then just stares at her across the table.

"Doesn't surprise me that making deals with one's as finicky and dangerous as trying to do so with a crossroads demon." Something grim passes through his glance.

[pacificator]

"Yeah, she's a real bitch. And, look, I get it, there are times when I want to push him into a well, too, but – "

She moves her head side to side, shrugging, though her eyes narrow at the way his expression flickers. "I'd like to say ol' Doc wouldn't be that desperate or dumb, but I already mentioned the well, right?"

[gavemea_45]

"You did. And no, that'd be a bad idea." What she's said finally processes, and he blinks. "Wait, is that witch still around?"

[pacificator]

"The Stone Witch. Yeah."

She lifts her eyebrows and shakes her head, lifting her glass. "She's about as fun as a kick in the box."

[gavemea_45]

"Sounds like someone to avoid," Sam says, dryly. "She a problem for you?"

[pacificator]

"Oh, yeah. She hated Wyatt Earp as much as she hated Doc."

More, maybe. Doc's punishment was really meant to punish Wyatt. "Probably she's got a reason for it, but who's got time to hang around and listen to a witch spout exposition?"

[gavemea_45]

"You haven't felt the need to vomit up any pins lately, have you?" Dry as dust. "If not, you probably haven't pissed her off too much. I'd keep an eye out for hex bags, though."

[pacificator]

She makes a disgusted face. "Pins? No. Also, that is creepily specific."

[gavemea_45]

"Oh yeah, it's a classic," he drawls. "Goes all the way back to the 1600s. Pretty nasty curse, of the kind that means you've really angered the witch in question."

[pacificator]

"That doesn't seem to be her style," Wynonna muses. "Mostly she's working with the revheads and annoying Doc."

[gavemea_45]

"Probably just as well. Except for Doc, I guess." Sam can't help but grin, a little abashed. "The Doc Holliday. Damn. What's he like?"

[pacificator]

"He is..."

She trails off, glance shifting to the side as she tries to figure out how to describe Doc. Annoying? Sexy? Annoyingly sexy? "He really is the greatest gunslinger that ever lived," she decides. "Hot tempered. Can be really dry and funny. Pretty sure his mustache and guns are like ninety percent of his personality, and the rest is bourbon."

[gavemea_45]

"And he's teaching you to shoot?" Sam's grin turns mischievous. "Guess I'm lucky you didn't drill me."

[pacificator]

"Never heard that from a guy before," she says, her grin sharp and lascivious. "But even without Doc Holliday teaching me to shoot, I think I could've hit you from six inches away."

[gavemea_45]

Sam gives her a bland look. "Maybe, maybe not. Let's not find out."

[pacificator]

"I don't have any interest in losing my drinking buddy for the evening, anyway," she tells him.

[gavemea_45]

"Works for me." Sam looks at the detritus of empty tequila shots, and sets one of the last couple in front of her.

[pacificator]

She takes it, lifts it to him, and tips it back, setting the glass back down on the table with a shudder and a rough exhale. "Ooof. Mama might need to hang here tonight until this wears off."

[gavemea_45]

"Time stays stuck for you on the other side of the door too, right?" Sam looks dour for a second, remembering the trick the asshole Trickster had played on them.

[pacificator]

"Far as I can tell."

She takes a bite of brownie and chews extravagantly. "If I'd known there was a bar I could live in, I would have been here years ago."

[gavemea_45]

"It's a pretty useful place," he has to admit. "I haven't been here in a little while, but it seems like I remember."

[pacificator]

"Dolls can never know. He would instantly make it as unfun as possible."

And probably try to tape it off with Black Badge-issued CAUTION tape. "I guess I can see how a gateway to Hell opening up might have kept you away."

[gavemea_45]

"The fewer federal agents, the better, I feel."

Sam picks up a few pretzels and toys with them before eating one, not quite meeting her eyes. "That and a couple of other things, yeah."