Sam Winchester (
gavemea_45) wrote2023-01-05 07:38 pm
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[AU] two worlds, a lot of demons, and a new set of problems
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.
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.
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But the warmth fuzz of the whiskey and tequila is catching hold of her, and pretty soon she won't be good for much of anything. Unless there's a mechanical bull stashed away somewhere in this joint. She nods at his piles of books. "Want some help?"
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She sets her hands on the table top and stands, a little unsteadily. "Then I think it's time for me to go sleep this off."
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He’s a little tipsy himself, but not too bad, he thinks.
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It takes a second for her glance to waver its way up to his face. "It's fine. I think the tequila got to the floor, though. It feels a little drunk."
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For most guys, that wouldn't really be the invitation on the table. With him, she kind of thinks it is. "If you're going that way already."
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She turns and swaggers over to the bar, her head fuzzier than ever, to do just that.
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That’s okay. It’s worth it. More than. Still, it’ll go better if he’s not still breathing whiskey fumes when he’s telling his brother about this. Sam waits for her to ask for a key, planning to do the same right after.
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Sam breaks off there as two bottles materialize along with the key, somehow in a pointed manner. He sighs and shoves them in the bag too. “Thanks.”
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“Like I said. She fusses.”
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With his shaggy hair that's just begging for an older sibling to muss up on purpose, and that quiet sincerity that beams out of those puppy-dog eyes. Despite everything, he still looks like an innocent. She looks like someone they might base a CSI episode on.
If the stairs shift, they're nice enough to do when she's not paying attention. "Also not like someone who regularly goes on a bender."
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“I do not.”
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She studies her key for a moment, then points. "That way."
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She points a finger ahead and staggers after it.
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