(no subject)

[gavemea_45]

[After this.]

When he comes back, he doesn't head straight out to see how Dean's doing.

There's always the chance his brother might notice that Sam's quieter than he was before he left, and Sam doesn't feel like explaining the reason.

Not yet.

Comments

[salver]

He's going to need another box of Exacto blades, the way this is going. Worth it, though -- the project he's got in mind is the kind of thing where practice pays.

The door opens, and Bobby -- blade in hand, hand holding open a book -- lifts his head. "Hey."

[gavemea_45]

"Hey, Bobby."

Sam doesn't look up, nor does he slow down as he passes through the room toward the front door.

[salver]

Sam doesn't look up, and he doesn't slow down. Something in Bobby's face sharpens --

And then he says, sliding the book across the table, "Don't guess I could get you to hold this a minute so I don't cut off my own damn finger."

[gavemea_45]

"What? Yeah, sure--"

He shoves the cell phone that he's been fiddling with back into his pocket and walks over, reaching for the book.

[salver]

The symbol on the open page is intricate; it's difficult to see where it stops and where it ends, and where to even begin trying to recreate it.

(The primary word under the figure in the text: munimentum.)

Bobby adjusts the book a little, and bends over the piece of cardboard he was working on. "Thanks. Didn't much feel up to bleeding today."

[gavemea_45]

"No problem."

He keeps his hand steady, holding the volume in place.

[salver]

Bobby's eyes flicker from the book to the cardboard and back again. "Been a while since I tried something like this."

[gavemea_45]

"Mm-hmm."

Sam's clearly not paying attention.

[salver]

Uh-huh.



"Think your brother ran off to join the circus," Bobby offers.

[gavemea_45]

"Mm-hm-- wait, what?"

He looks startled for a second, and then gives Bobby a look.

"Sure he did."

[salver]

Mild: "I'm just trying to prevent you from losing a finger."

[gavemea_45]

"Thanks."

[salver]

"Welcome," he says cheerfully, and sets back to work.



"More of the usual?"

[gavemea_45]

"Uh-huh."

He's paying a little more attention now, at least-- enough to ensure he's not going to have his hand sliced up.

[salver]

"I didn't miss nothing with Dean."

It's a question.

[gavemea_45]

"Wh--no," Sam says, hastily.

"Nothing's wrong with Dean."

Nothing new, anyway.

[salver]

Bobby glances up.

"Then what about you?"

[gavemea_45]

"I'm fine."

His glance slides away as he says it, back down to the book.

[salver]

"Bullshit." Again, it's mild. "You wasn't fine last time I saw you, and you're even less now."

Sam never got good at lying.

[gavemea_45]

His head snaps up and his gaze locks with Bobby's, and this time there's real heat in it.

"I said I'm fine."

[salver]

He raises his eyebrows.

Click goes the knife on the table, and he straightens.

As though Sam never said anything -- as though he never said anything -- "I'm gettin' a beer. You in?"

[gavemea_45]

"Think I'll pass."

Sam says this easily enough, even as he reaches for a piece of scrap paper to mark the page with. He lets go of the book and stands.

"Got a couple of things I should be doing."

[salver]

"Yeah?" Bobby's hands are in his pockets. "Call bullshit on that too, but whatever suits you."

[gavemea_45]

"Call it what you want."

He turns away and heads for the front door, but slows as he reaches it.

Not looking at Bobby, Sam adds,

"Thanks, all the same."

[salver]

By this point in his life, Bobby's pretty good at resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Worried as you are about your brother, you'd think you could manage not to try his act on for size." He shakes his head at Sam's back. "Got that beer for you, when you want it."

[gavemea_45]

Tension knots Sam's shoulders momentarily at Bobby's observation, but he doesn't say anything.



A second later, the door shuts behind him.

[salver]

Bobby shakes his head, and turns back to his work.