Sidetrip

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

Lawrence, Kansas, is not a spectacular town. It does not have neon lights pointing to it detailing "EVERYTHING IMPORTANT IN THE WORLD TO BE FOUND HERE". Given the recent Apocalypse, it doesn't even have lights. Or people anymore, for that matter.

Still, it's home.

And what's more, that's home. Once she started recognizing landmarks, Dianne began leading the way, and lead she did- directly to an innocent, perfectly ordinary if slightly broken-down home. She pulls the Impala into the driveway (which could use some re-paving, to be honest), and steps out, stretching, and waits for Faith.

Comments

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

"You bet your ass it is."

Because family extends beyond alternate universe evil beard shit.

"I don't care what kind of broody guilt you've got going on in there, I want you to talk to me."

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

"You know what? I don't give a damn what you want."

Sam advances on Dianne, his expression completely blank.

"Right before I came here, I was taking my brother's BODY someplace where I could burn it, because he died and went to Hell, because he made a deal with a fucking Crossroads Demon because I died and he couldn't leave it alone. I finally got him to trust me to save his life, and I couldn't do it, and he's gone, and I have nobody left. So what you want is really of no consequence to me, because all I care about is getting back to my world, and then killing anyone and anything that stands in the way of my getting him back."

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

....


Fuck. Does he have to be so tall? Really?


She looks him squarely in the eye, says, "Yeah, well, you want to know what I think of that plan, Sammy?" and decks him.

It's amazing how much power she can put into a punch.

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

It really, really is.

And she nailed him in the solar plexus, too.

Sam leans over and wheezes for a while.

A long while.

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

She'll wait.

(It's not like she hurt him too much. And anyway, little brother or not, the bastard deserves it for trying to strong-arm her like that.)

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

"Bitch," Sam manages to say at length, without really thinking about it.

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

"You want to think about that one again, Sammy?"

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

"God, you're just like Dean, except he's never hit me quite that hard."

Sam straightens and eyes her.

"You really are a Winchester, aren't you?"

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

"Now he catches on. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one, College Boy."

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

Sam's expression shuts down again at the mention of college.

"That was two years ago, and I didn't graduate," he says, quietly. "The thing that killed Mom came after my girlfriend, and...can you not call me that? Please."

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

...Well, that went well.

"God, Sam."



"Sorry."

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

"Yeah. It's not....yeah. Thanks."

Beat.

"You look like Mom a little. The mouth and nose mostly."

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

There's a flicker of. Something. It's hard to tell. Hell, she's in her head, and it's hard to tell.

"Yeah? Well, your face looks kinda like a horse's ass but you don't see me talking about it."

(Emotional repression. It's all about the emotional repression. Good soldiers don't show what they're feeling.)

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

Sam stares at her for a second, and then turns his back, lowering his head and planting his hands on the hood of the Impala, his shoulders shaking suspiciously.

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

...



.....


"Sammy?"

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

Sam turns back, after a second's hesitation.

He's laughing quietly, a wry grin on his lips. "Definitely a Winchester," he says, and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug.

Maybe he sensed she needed one. Maybe HE needed one. Maybe both.

"I always wanted a sister."

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

He gets a few token protestations and a grumpy, "Yeah, and I always wanted a skyscraper."

It's funny.

She's not trying to get away from the hug.

(This time.)

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

Sam snorts, and doesn't let her go. "I'm not -that- tall. You're just....very tiny."

Beat.

"Sorry. About before. It's been a rough...lifetime, pretty much."

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

Hrmph.

"You just think that because you're freakishly tall, dude. All that being so exposed to the elements does something to your brain."


"Yeah. Don't do it again."

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

Sam rolls his eyes.

And ruffles her hair.

"Brat."

Apparently he has decided that this is an acceptable variant on the "Bitch, Jerk" routine.

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

"Woah, woah, woah."

And there is some attempted squirming out of his hug. Jury's still out on how successful she is. "I'm still older than you. If anyone's the brat here, it's gonna be you."

Beat.

"And the hair? Not cool."

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

Sam grins, but releases her.

"No, sorry. You're the brat. I've decided."

Wait until Dean shows up. Reinforcements!

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

"Yeah? Who was just ruffling whose hair? Bitch."

Her logic, it is sound!

[sasquatch-sam.livejournal.com]

"Brat."

Sam is determined.

But at least he's accepted that she's his sister? Er.

[not-theslayer.livejournal.com]

Her reply is a punch.

A playful, no-force-behind-it punch.

A 'whatever you say, bitch, I'm still older than you' punch.

:D