[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]

"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."

[pacificator]

"That shit does have a tendency to spiral."

Despite the fuzziness in her head, her eyes are clear and sharp as they study him. "What else could be so distracting?"

[gavemea_45]

Sam sighs, and looks up to meet her gaze.

"Well, I was sort of dead for a few days. Like you said, it was a little distracting. For everyone."

[pacificator]

"Yeah."

She drags it out: yyyyyeeeeeah. "That would do it."

Those sharp eyes of hers keep studying him as she languidly reaches for another brownie. "Looking pretty hale and hearty now, though, champ."

[gavemea_45]

"That's because I got better," Sam drawls, and does his best to keep both guilt and desperation hidden.

[pacificator]

"Did you?"

What would she do, if something happened to Waverly? Is there anything she wouldn't do?

Any deal she wouldn't strike?

Her glance flickers to the books he's studying, and back up at him. "That's a neat trick."

[gavemea_45]

Looks like she's quick on the draw in more ways than one. He can't say he hadn't expected it. God knows Dean doesn't want to talk about it, and Bobby's being entirely too careful with what he says and doesn't say for Sam to feel good about the odds... not that it's going to stop him trying.

"The next one will be better. Once I finish the research."

[pacificator]

Wynonna nods. Whether he's right or not, she has no idea. If anyone in Purgatory has made a crossroads deal, she hasn't run into them yet.

Or maybe their time just isn't up. "What deal did he make?"

[gavemea_45]

Very quietly, Sam tells her, "My life for his soul. To be collected in one year."

[pacificator]

Wynonna's lips move, though the word doesn't leave them: fuck. She reaches to flip open Faust, like there's any possibility she might find something useful.

This is way beyond her. Suddenly, and for multiple reasons, she wishes Waverly were here. She desperately wants to hug her baby sister.

But she gets it. If it were Waverly, she'd make that deal in a second. Hell, maybe not even for a whole year. It's not like her soul and Waverly's life could ever be weighed equally. One is a burning coal and the other a brick of gold. Her brows flicker into a frown. "Peacemaker," she says, and glances up at him.

"Peacemaker could kill the demon. The one that made the deal."

[gavemea_45]

"As soon as I find it, I'll take you up on that. And then - whatever you want of me, you can have it." There's absolutely no hesitation about him. Sam can't imagine life without Dean, not after Stanford, not when it'd be so much worse and final and horrible.

It can't happen. He can't let it. No matter what.

"We're trying to make more ammo for the Colt - our Colt - but we haven't gotten there yet. Dean used the last round to take out Yellow-Eyes, the demon I mentioned before."

[pacificator]

She shakes her head. "Free of charge."

He's already stuck in a deal he doesn't want. What could she possibly ask in return? Not a damn thing. Wynonna tips her head at the bar. "I'll check back here every day. You find that demon, leave me a note."