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As long as it matters, that's all that matters.
[It probably makes more sense to her because she's half-asleep already. Such a state has a way of creating new forms of logic.
And changing inhibitions a little.]
I want to take you back with me, someday. Then...we can both have a different future...
[It probably makes more sense to her because she's half-asleep already. Such a state has a way of creating new forms of logic.
And changing inhibitions a little.]
I want to take you back with me, someday. Then...we can both have a different future...
[ The way his heart clenches down at hearing that surprises Sam. It's a bittersweet sentiment, but impossible for many reasons. First of which that Sam knows he has to go back to his world and reality, to undo the future. He can't walk away from his mistakes and that responsibility. But second? That she somehow would think he wouldn't end up ruining hers.
There's a long moment of silence before he offers, ]
Maybe someday.
[ It's an empty notion. ]
There's a long moment of silence before he offers, ]
Maybe someday.
[ It's an empty notion. ]
Maybe...
[To far-gone to analyze the emptiness of it all, she just curls up a little bit more against him, sinking down into the pillow.]
Or maybe I'd go off with you. But I'm not sure your world could handle me...
[A peculiar thing to say, but it's oddness escapes her as she drifts off. The nice thing about things you say when you're half-asleep, though, is that you usually don't remember them in the morning.]
[To far-gone to analyze the emptiness of it all, she just curls up a little bit more against him, sinking down into the pillow.]
Or maybe I'd go off with you. But I'm not sure your world could handle me...
[A peculiar thing to say, but it's oddness escapes her as she drifts off. The nice thing about things you say when you're half-asleep, though, is that you usually don't remember them in the morning.]
[ Another thing he couldn't ask from her. She has friends, family, a life all her own. Bring her to a world he's trying to save, but may still inevitably fuck up? Send her to wait out the apocalypse? No, he couldn't do that. He wouldn't.
So Sam doesn't respond to that one, just lets her relax as his own tired gaze just keeps staring straight forward. He can't promise what she wants to hear, and he can't let this thing with Dean go on any further.
He knows he's got to put an end to it soon. He'll leave in the morning. ]
So Sam doesn't respond to that one, just lets her relax as his own tired gaze just keeps staring straight forward. He can't promise what she wants to hear, and he can't let this thing with Dean go on any further.
He knows he's got to put an end to it soon. He'll leave in the morning. ]
[Fatima does not want to make this call. She dithers for an hour or two, making up little excuses; cold compresses, rest, maybe a shot or two of rum. But she knows perfectly well that they're excuses. And she knows perfectly well that she made a deal with Sam.
It'll be fun seeing how that blows up in her face.
So she makes the call. It's voice, instead of video. Her bruises are healing up, but they're still visible.
She speaks rapidly, like she wants to get it all out before she changes her mind or chickens out or something. Like a band-aid, right?]
Everyone is fine and alive and kicking and I don't want you to freak out or do that guilt thing you do, because it's really not about you, even if you internalize everything, but I swear to whatever gods are out there, this was a long time coming, "long time" as in "way before you and I were..." I don't know, whatever we are, and I'm only telling you this because I promised that I would try out the whole being-honest thing so please don't flip out, okay?
[That was kind of a sentence, right?]
It'll be fun seeing how that blows up in her face.
So she makes the call. It's voice, instead of video. Her bruises are healing up, but they're still visible.
She speaks rapidly, like she wants to get it all out before she changes her mind or chickens out or something. Like a band-aid, right?]
Everyone is fine and alive and kicking and I don't want you to freak out or do that guilt thing you do, because it's really not about you, even if you internalize everything, but I swear to whatever gods are out there, this was a long time coming, "long time" as in "way before you and I were..." I don't know, whatever we are, and I'm only telling you this because I promised that I would try out the whole being-honest thing so please don't flip out, okay?
[That was kind of a sentence, right?]
What?
[Fatima actually sounds bewildered for a second. Didn't she just tell him what happened?
...no. No, she really didn't. Fuck.
She takes a single, deep breath. And then plows forward as fast as possible, as if holding the words in will hurt her.
Of course, letting them out isn't much fun either.]
Dean tried to kill me again.
[Fatima actually sounds bewildered for a second. Didn't she just tell him what happened?
...no. No, she really didn't. Fuck.
She takes a single, deep breath. And then plows forward as fast as possible, as if holding the words in will hurt her.
Of course, letting them out isn't much fun either.]
Dean tried to kill me again.
[ ...God dammit.
He'd hoped, he'd really hoped too much had gone on for Dean to try that again. Hadn't they just gotten out of something so much bigger than his petty grudges?
There's a grated sigh, though it's not directed at her. He's tired, he's angry, and dammit Dean, just stop. ]
When? Where was this?
He'd hoped, he'd really hoped too much had gone on for Dean to try that again. Hadn't they just gotten out of something so much bigger than his petty grudges?
There's a grated sigh, though it's not directed at her. He's tired, he's angry, and dammit Dean, just stop. ]
When? Where was this?
[It isn't hard to hear that irritation over the phone. It makes her jaw tense which hurts. She presses the cold compress to it for a moment. This whole honesty thing? Not all it's cracked up to be.]
About two hours ago. I woulda called sooner but...
[Yeah. He doesn't need to hear that part. It's not really relevant.
...is it?]
I was in my garden. He came at me with a knife. I'm fine, Sam. And he's fine. It was just...
[Not fine.]
About two hours ago. I woulda called sooner but...
[Yeah. He doesn't need to hear that part. It's not really relevant.
...is it?]
I was in my garden. He came at me with a knife. I'm fine, Sam. And he's fine. It was just...
[Not fine.]
[ he doesn't want to make this call, is certain sam already knows -- because of course he does, fatima would have said something -- but dean doesn't want it to boil down to sam having to force the answers out of him again, like during prior conflicts. so he reaches out before sam can, though the usual bite and steel of his voice is missing, his defenses down. ]
If you already spoke to Fatima-- [ it started off better in his head, but suddenly dean isn't sure where he's going with this. only that... excuses won't really cut it.
a long beat passes and he sighs. ]
I messed up, Sam.
[ simple and honest. ]
If you already spoke to Fatima-- [ it started off better in his head, but suddenly dean isn't sure where he's going with this. only that... excuses won't really cut it.
a long beat passes and he sighs. ]
I messed up, Sam.
[ simple and honest. ]
[ But what? But she was unconscious? But she was hiding? It could be any number of things, but Sam isn't prepared to hear how Dean tried to do it this time. This time. It's disgusting he has to think about it that way.
Is their relationship doing her more harm than good? They've had this conversation before and he knows she wouldn't want him to bring it up again. ]
Just what?
[Just so many things. And she can't say half of them because she needs to keep it together. For Sam's sake.
Maybe her own too. She doesn't want to deal with some of the things he called her.]
It was just messy.
Maybe her own too. She doesn't want to deal with some of the things he called her.]
It was just messy.
[ You messed up? Yeah, you messed up. Again. But so did Sam. He knows he can't hover and hope to protect her at every moment, but Dean is his responsibility. Dean is someone he cares about and wants to trust. But he can't, he just can't.
But really, Dean is admitting that he messed up. Something Sam never thought he'd hear in regards to Fatima.
There's silence on the other end where shouting usually is. He's tired and shocked. ]
...Yeah. Yeah you did.
But really, Dean is admitting that he messed up. Something Sam never thought he'd hear in regards to Fatima.
There's silence on the other end where shouting usually is. He's tired and shocked. ]
...Yeah. Yeah you did.
[ the fact that sam replies gives dean enough hope to keep going, though the words come slowly, carefully. it's hard to not slam the blame on fatima -- he still hates her, hates that she's a part of sam's life -- but this isn't about her. not really. ]
I know she was bruised, but... it didn't go beyond that.
[ unlike with him and his broken nose. ]
I know she was bruised, but... it didn't go beyond that.
[ unlike with him and his broken nose. ]
[ There are so many things Sam wants to say, things that in every right he should tear Dean apart for. But the fact that his brother has come forward of his own accord is enough to keep him quiet, keep his temper in check. He's tired, too, but the thought that if he says the wrong thing Dean will recoil is paramount. ]
Why?
[ Why didn't it go beyond that? Why did he do it in the first place? Why does he always do it? ]
[ dean sucks in a breath. ]
I was angry. At-- everything. [ but isn't he always. dean falls quiet again for a moment, thinking that maybe he could-- maybe they could leave it at that? or maybe it won't satisfy sam. he doesn't know, it-- it's all so complicated. ]
I thought going back to what I was going to do before everything happened would make being here, like this, easier again.
[ here like this being the real haven, and not a pill-hopping happy version of it. ]
I was angry. At-- everything. [ but isn't he always. dean falls quiet again for a moment, thinking that maybe he could-- maybe they could leave it at that? or maybe it won't satisfy sam. he doesn't know, it-- it's all so complicated. ]
I thought going back to what I was going to do before everything happened would make being here, like this, easier again.
[ here like this being the real haven, and not a pill-hopping happy version of it. ]
[She sighs softly, taking a moment to purse her lips and consider her options.
Frankly, she'd rather have Sam mad at her than at Dean. At least then he wouldn't feel resentful? Maybe?]
I broke his nose.
Frankly, she'd rather have Sam mad at her than at Dean. At least then he wouldn't feel resentful? Maybe?]
I broke his nose.
Well, he tried to kill me. And he...
[Crap. She didn't want to get into this.]
...hit me.
Sam, seriously, everyone is fine.
[Crap. She didn't want to get into this.]
...hit me.
Sam, seriously, everyone is fine.
Edited 2014-10-22 16:17 (UTC)
[ Everyone is not fine, but when is that ever not the case? Despite her worries, he's not mad at her. She did what she had to and damn it all if Dean hasn't screwed up again. If Sam hasn't screwed up since he's yet to put a stop to all of this. ]
Everyone is fine.
[ He sounds unconvinced, if strained. ]
[Damn it. This honesty thing is a pain in the ass. But a promise is a promise.
Or some other nonsense.
She sighs softly.]
Give me about half an hour. Then come over here.
[She'll prove to him that everyone is fine.]
Or some other nonsense.
She sighs softly.]
Give me about half an hour. Then come over here.
[She'll prove to him that everyone is fine.]
[This isn't going to be easy. Or pretty.]
I'll leave the door unlocked.
[And she closes the line with that. Half an hour isn't a lot of time, but it's enough to put on copious amounts of makeup. She covers every bruise and every cut and every scar. Even the mole by her eye. She adds red-red-RED lipstick and plenty of eyeliner. Then changes into a pair of jeans (to hide the swell of her knee) and one of Sam's shirts.
Looking in the mirror, she feels almost normal, if not a little...well, LA, really. Plastic and paint. But it'll do.
All that's left is to settle on the couch and hope Sam doesn't suddenly have the urge to go dancing. She puts a pillow on her lap, trying to hide her knee as best she can.]
I'll leave the door unlocked.
[And she closes the line with that. Half an hour isn't a lot of time, but it's enough to put on copious amounts of makeup. She covers every bruise and every cut and every scar. Even the mole by her eye. She adds red-red-RED lipstick and plenty of eyeliner. Then changes into a pair of jeans (to hide the swell of her knee) and one of Sam's shirts.
Looking in the mirror, she feels almost normal, if not a little...well, LA, really. Plastic and paint. But it'll do.
All that's left is to settle on the couch and hope Sam doesn't suddenly have the urge to go dancing. She puts a pillow on her lap, trying to hide her knee as best she can.]
[ He doesn't respond, letting the line fall flat. He doesn't do much of anything, really. Only waits until it's the appropriate time to start walking to her house. Hands loosely in the pockets of his hoodie, Sam only glances about for a general self of who and what is around him, but he's not feeling keen to stop any impending threats, because there always is one. Always.
Sam doesn't knock.. He just let's himself in and sees Fatima on the couch, looking a little too put together for someone who just went head to head with Dean Winchester. ]
...
[ It's clear he's scrutinizing, even from a distance. ]
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