(no subject)

[hopeitsworthit]

[ooc: Immediately after this]


He leads Sammy and the bottle of tequila into their room, closing the door behind them.

Sammy sits on the end of one of the beds and Dean sits in the chair near the night stand, about an arm and a half's length away from Sammy.

"You alright?"

He breaks the seal and opens the bottle.

Comments

[gavemea_45]

"I ..."

He squeezes his eyes shut, makes himself take a deep breath.

"Shit."

[hopeitsworthit]

He takes a small swig, grimacing at the strength of the tequila. "You can say that again." He holds the bottle out to Sammy.

[gavemea_45]

Sam takes the bottle and has a drink, wincing. "Shit. Shit shit shit."

[hopeitsworthit]

"I think it's time to choose a new word, Sammy."

[gavemea_45]

"Fuck?"

[hopeitsworthit]

He nods, taking the bottle. "Good."

[gavemea_45]

He sighs, then blinks and looks up at Dean. "What'd -- what'd that 'take your brother to bed already' thing mean?"

[hopeitsworthit]

He chokes on the swig he just took, coughing, trying to clear his throat.

"What?"

[gavemea_45]

"Jesus, Dean, careful."

Sam eyes him. "You okay?"

[hopeitsworthit]

He coughs a bit more, hitting his chest in that manly 'I'm clearing my throat' kind of way.

"Yeah, no, I'm alright." He hands the bottle to Sammy. "Wrong pipe."

[gavemea_45]

For he is a Manly Man.

"You know what it meant?" Swig, wince.

[hopeitsworthit]

He swallows hard. "No idea. You?"

[gavemea_45]

Shrug. "Same. 's why I asked."

He looks down at the bedspread.

[hopeitsworthit]

After a moment of silence, he finally says, "How ya doin'?"

[gavemea_45]

Sam doesn't say anything, just shrugs once.

Possibly he and the bedspread are telepathically connected.

"Do you think," he starts, and then seems to think better of it.

[hopeitsworthit]

"Do I think what?" he presses.

[gavemea_45]

"Hm? Oh, it's nothing, it's just ..." He looks up at Dean for a second or two, and he's half-smiling, like he knows he's asking a stupid question. "After someone dies their spirit goes somewhere, right?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"That wasn't Jess, Sammy," he says again. "Or Jess' spirit. It was just an illusion."

[gavemea_45]

"No, I know," he says. "But what do you think?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"Well, I guess they go somewhere. I mean, we've dealt with enough of them. And...mom...." he doesn't finish his sentence, unsure of what to say.

[gavemea_45]

"Yeah."

It's a decent way to finish the sentence.

He goes back to staring at the bedspread.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean leans forward and reaches out to touch Sam's knee but at the last second pulls his hand back.

"Hey, you okay?"

[gavemea_45]

"I -- yeah, I'm fine," Sam says, and takes another swig.

Maybe the pattern's a fractal?

[hopeitsworthit]

He reaches out and takes the bottle, their hands lightly brushing, the touch shocks him a little and he moves too quickly, accidentally dropping the bottle.

"Fuck."

[gavemea_45]

"Must be dry in here."

Sam gets to the bottle before Dean does, picking it up and inspecting the carpet.

Hey, not much spilled. Hooray.

He hands the bottle over; this time it doesn't drop.