[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]

"If your hellmouth is in my world and Dolls knows about it..."

She tips her head, mouth twisting. "I'll find out about it."

[gavemea_45]

"Even if he doesn't - here, look." Sam drags out Dad's journal and turns to a page about two-thirds of the way through where he's pasted a small map of Wyoming. Someone looking closely as he flips through might notice that the handwriting here is different from that seen on earlier pages.

He turns the map so she can see. "That mark there, that's the gate's location. The pentagram's the railroad lines that were used to create a devil's trap of iron to seal it in, with churches at the points to reinforce it."

[pacificator]

She leans in to study the map, then takes out her phone and snaps a picture. "I'll check it out," she promises, then amends.

"I'll have Waverly check it out."

[gavemea_45]

"She does most of the research work, huh?" It strikes him that Waverly and Wynonna really are a lot like him and Dean.

[pacificator]

"Most of it," Wynonna says, sidling close to the truth before she gives up. "Okay, all of it. You should see the murder board she was making before I even got back to Purgatory."

[gavemea_45]

Sam smiles. "Sounds familiar. Although Dean does some, he doesn't like it as much as I do."

[pacificator]

"You'd like Waverly," Wynonna muses. The whiskey and tequila are mixing jerkily in her blood, in her head. "Everyone likes Waverly."

[gavemea_45]

"Does she come here too?" Sam reaches for another couple of pretzels. "You'd like Dean. And he'd like you."

[pacificator]

She's sure she would like Dean. The hellbound ones are the most fun.

"Not that I know of," she says, eying the waitrat as it scuttles up and sets down a few bottles of water, meaningfully. "I'm not sure you'd be able to drag her out of this place if she found it."

[gavemea_45]

Sam huffs out a wry breath at the waitrat. "I think we've been cut off." Amused, he takes one of the bottles.

"How'd you find it, anyway?"

[pacificator]

"Stumbling back through the ladies' at Shorty's – the local saloon," she admits. "Admittedly, I was already drunk. It took me a while to notice that a few of the patrons actually had two heads."

[gavemea_45]

"Yeah, I can see how that'd have been a shock." Struck by a memory, Sam eyes her carefully. "Anyone tell you that they get demons here, too?"

[pacificator]

"As long as none of them are Bobo Del Ray, I think I can handle it."

Also as long as none of them start any shit. "They cause any trouble?"

[gavemea_45]

"They're not supposed to." It's very, very dry.

[pacificator]

She sighs and rolls her eyes. "Right. Why take a night off from the evil-doing?"

[gavemea_45]

"Uh-huh." Sam downs a third of the water bottle, then sets it back on the table. "Anyway, figured you should know."

[pacificator]

Wynonna reaches for the whiskey, catches the gimlet glare of a nearby waitrat, and adjusts to grab one of the bottles of water. "Thanks for the heads up."

[gavemea_45]

“Sure.” Sam tips his head toward the rat and murmurs, “Better them than the bar herself.”

[pacificator]

"Yeah?"

She slides a glance over at the bar. "Why, what happens when she does it?"

[gavemea_45]

“She just doesn’t serve you. Until she decides you’re okay or whatever.” He sounds sour. “Sometimes she gives you other stuff instead that she thinks you should have. She fusses, I guess you’d say.”

[pacificator]

"You sound awfully familiar with it."

She considers him. Maybe he's not as good of a boy as he looks.

[gavemea_45]

Sam shrugs and gives her a blandly innocent smile.

[pacificator]

"Uh-huh."

She cracks the bottle and sips at the water, then lifts it, aggrieved, towards the waitrat, which squeaks and scurries off. "At least this place has rooms where you can sleep it off, not just an alleyway."

[gavemea_45]

“Comfortable ones, even.” Sam eyes her again. “Do a lot of sleeping in alleyways?”

[pacificator]

"Define 'a lot.'"

Say what you will about alleyways, but they're a closer stumble than the homestead is. "But a room for the night is looking better and better."