thinkshesosmart: (▷ the days seem so faded)
CONTACT

"Hey, I'm not here right now. Leave a message and I'll get back as soon as I can."


(ic + ooc contact page)
thinkshesosmart: (▷ and something doesn't add up)
HOW'S MY DRIVING

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thinkshesosmart: (neutral)
Sam hadn't been out this way in a long time. Under other circumstances, he might have been looking forward to seeing Bobby again, but that was before he started traveling with something they normally be more inclined to hunt than buddy up with. This wasn't just any vampire though, this was Dean, and hopefully... hopefully Bobby would get that. At least hopefully not try to stake him on sight.

Either way, they were at the end of what they could do on their own. Eric had given them a place to really start from, but Bobby was definitely the guy who could lead them in the right direction when it came to tracking down and killing the demon. Dad wasn't going to help them and Sam wasn't going to call begging him for it... that really would put Dean in danger. Last time they met, he looked about ready to stake Dean if he hadn't been there.

Fidgeting a little in his seat, Sam found himself feeling over his neck again, checking it in the mirror for the hundredth time. He knew he didn't have any visible marks. They couldn't risk that one again with another hunter, even if it was Bobby. He just couldn't help the nagging worry that he'd know anyway, somehow, that Dean fed on him. Hell, that he fed on Dean.

Even if Sam had been trying to lay off the blood for this visit. No way was he showing up strung out on vampire blood either... even if he'd been almost tempted to ask for it. Something to ease up his nerves. Not a smart move though.

When they made the turn into Bobby's, he gave Dean a look over. "So, you ready for this?"
thinkshesosmart: (Default)
Sam let out a soft huff of noise as he leaned back in the uncomfortable, hard seat of their latest motel. He stretched out, felt his shoulders pop in protest from being hunched over his laptop a better part of the day. More fruitless searching and more cases that didn't lead anywhere. Their contacts hadn't turned up much either and Sam was getting impatient and frustrated.

At this point? It felt like they weren't getting anywhere ever, that they'd be at it for God only knows how long.

He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed.

Frustrated as he was, he was itching for something else and he found himself anxiously watching the clock. Dean would be up soon and... God, he knew how fucked up it was, deep down, that he was waiting, wondering if it had been long enough since the last time to ask Dean for more of his blood, but it didn't stop the nagging at the back of his brain.

He was getting less embarrassed to ask for it anymore, even with the side effects. Dean could feel how he felt if it was strong enough, which made things a little awkward and irritating. It was invasive... but on the plus side, Dean could tell when he needed help, could come to his aid quicker on hunts and that was definitely useful. Not to mention how great he felt when he had Dean's blood, how everything in his life seemed a little easier to deal with.

On the down side, there was something sexual about it too. Dean hadn't been lying when he said drinking the blood would make Sam want him. He tried to downplay it, tried to ignore the dreams or the draw to get closer to Dean whenever he got a drop in his mouth... but he never did just stop it with the blood, did he? Apparently, dreaming about your brother in a sexual way, getting hard when you fed from him wasn't enough to outweigh the pros.

Dean hadn't called him on it yet though nor had he been freaked out enough by it so far. Knew Dean felt a similar draw when he had his blood anyway, he couldn't talk.

And Sam tried to keep it to nights when they'd have a day free anyway. He didn't take it during a case if he could help it, or if he was hurt enough to need it.

Tomorrow was going to be a free day because he couldn't find a damn thing off in the town they were in or in any surrounding areas either. Frustrating as it was, he couldn't deny he wasn't looking forward to seeing if Dean would offer his blood, letting Dean drink from him even.

Yeah, maybe this was getting to be a problem, but Sam was getting good at denial and ignoring it for the most part.

While he waited for Dean to get up, he grabbed a slice of the pizza he'd ordered earlier and took a bite while he went to put a bottle of Dean's TrueBlood in the microwave to heat up. Knew he'd want one and he'd be crawling out soon, least he could do.
thinkshesosmart: (▷ troubles gnawing at my mind)
Too bad the high from blood only lasted so long. Eventually, it all had to come back down and that left Sam's mood dropping, fast. They'd spent so much time looking for Dad, only to have him show up and find them first... then walk away again. Didn't exactly like the way he treated Dean either and if John had the mind to start hunting something, Sam didn't know what could deterr him. Even if it was his own son.

Either way, they got back on the road as soon as night fell after all that and that's where they stayed.

Besides that though, at least one thing was better... the guilt he'd felt over Jessica's death was a little less. It didn't feel like he could blame himself entirely, not when he probably couldn't have stopped it anyway. Didn't mean he wasn't still broken up over it, but... maybe he could at least go on a little easier if he had that to cling to.

And he had to have his head on straight if they were on their own in this search for what killed Mom and Jess.

Not that they'd had many leads at all. Mostly, they've just been driving, trying to get in touch with some of Dad's old contacts and still looking in the papers or on the computer for anything weird happening. It gave them something to keep them busy, helped with the frustration that it felt like they were getting nowhere fast at least.

And right now, he was settled in the passenger side, leaning lightly against the door as he alternated between watching whatever scenery go by and catching up on e-mails. Admittedly, only half-listening to whatever Dean was talking about, but... he was a little busy here.

"God..." He almost couldn't believe what he was reading.
thinkshesosmart: (▷ not amused)
Sam can still remember the exact time of day, down to probably the minute, Dad came to Stanford to tell him Dean was dead, that he'd really died. He could still remember how he numbly took the keys to the Impala that was apparently his now, like Sam actually wanted it, wanted that reminder of his brother. They'd talked for awhile after, too, tried to make amends, but it all was kind of blurred together and hazy. The shock had been horrible, the pain of losing the man who'd practically raised him and cared for him was sharp and impossible to ignore. Like losing a piece of yourself, like losing an arm or leg... it was like having to learn to live all over again without something you took for granted.

Granted he hadn't talked to his brother since coming to Stanford, but it wasn't the same. Not talking to Dean and knowing he wasn't there for when Sam needed him, truly needed him, or hell... just wanted to bite the bullet and smooth things over with his big brother... it was horrible. Like realizing you wasted time, a punch in the face that you were too stupid and arrogant to realize that maybe you wouldn't have all the time in the world to make things right.

Somehow he continued on though, stayed at Stanford, tried not to listen to that little voice that reminded him how many things sounded off about his dad's story because... Dad wouldn't lie about this. Not about Dean.

But then he lost someone else important to him. Jess... he'd seen her on the ceiling, watched her burn, and he doesn't even remember clearly how he'd made it out of the wreckage. He honestly didn't know how he convinced himself up when the one good thing in his life was being taken away. She hadn't deserved that, hadn't deserved Sam ruining her life. Thing was? He had dreams about that happening to her weeks before and the guilt was almost overwhelming sometimes.

That night, he called Dad and tried desperately to get a hold of him only to come up short every time. Dad was missing and he tried not to let it bother him, but honestly, it was just the final straw. Before he knew it, Sam was back on the road in the Impala again, back loaded with weapons and on a hunt. Not for monsters, not for his father, but for Dean. He had to be sure.

Dad hadn't burned or salted his body and that didn't make sense, along with so many other things, little things. He didn't think Dad would lie about Dean being dead... but there were a lot of other things that could have happened. Needed to find Dean's body or find him alive... in whatever condition. He needed that closure or maybe he just needed a distraction from Jess and even from his own father disappearing in a time he needed him, really needed someone there for him that understood her death hadn't been an accident, that she'd been murdered.

Then again, Dad had never been that for him anyway. Why would he start now?

So maybe he was just chasing down a dream, something so ridiculous and foolish just because Dean was Dean and his big brother hadn't ever failed to be there for him before when it really counted. Maybe he was just tired of feeling like he was missing something, like he had a hole in him that just kept getting bigger. Whatever the case, Sam had made damn sure to follow Dean's trail before he disappeared to a T, asking around for him and doing all the research he could to find anything out about him.

If he didn't find Dean, maybe he could take some kind of revenge at least... revenge for something, anything. He needed something to keep him going, needed help tracking down Jess' killer and it was obvious Dad wouldn't be that. Couldn't even find the man right now. That was worrisome by itself... Couldn't lose all three people close to him, dammit.

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Sam Winchester

November 2014

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