It bothers her more than she cares to admit. The nagging feeling that Sam is hiding something from her. Or worse yet, trying to shield her from something. The former, she could deal with, if that's what it was. But the latter hits a nerve. She's a grown-ass woman. And she deserves to be treated as an equal. Not some pathetic...
[ His motivations are, in part, selfish. He doesn't want her to know things that would scare her, things he's upset and feels guilty about. Things that would make her find more reason not to trust him, but he also knows how stubborn she is. There is a factor of her own safety involved, and something like that, Sam won't back down on. Not when it deals with the devil. Not when it deals with Sam being a monster. ]
I know. [ He wishes he had answers. ] It's not easy.
[ He shakes his head again. Shoulds and didnts...are something he's familiar with. But there's a huge difference between them; at the time, Sam didn't even care. ]
[She opens those eyes, slightly, peering up at him from beneath her lashes. Normally, she'd be playing that particular look cute and seductive. But not right now. Mostly, it's just tired.]
[Fatima slides onto his lap readily enough, but she's not especially cuddly.]
Don't tell me what I do or don't want to do.
I asked the questioned because I wanted to ask it and because I want to know. I'm not a child, Sam. I've seen every bit as much horror in life has you have.
[ He just seems to be saying all the wrong things, doesn't he? He sighs, exhaling low through his nose as he rubs the back of his neck. ]
--it's not...about you. Honestly. And you're already sick of hearing me bitch, and I don't wanna sound like a broken record so...it's better to just not ask.
[ He looks up at her, but he doesn't smile. He's...worried he's already said too much. She doesn't want him to be hard on himself, he doesn't want to burden her with his problems anymore than she already has. His gaze drops despite himself as he wraps his arms around her. ]
Can we...--can I take a raincheck on the head smacking?
[ He nods, leaning in to bump his forehead on the side of hers. She doesn't need this, doesn't need him, really, not right after everything she's been through. That part is very much about her and it should be. She may be able to handle it all, but it doesn't mean that she has to. ]
[There's something oddly victorious and thrilling when Sam kisses her. So often, she finds herself kissing him and while she likes it just fine either way...
Well. It's just nice to know that he occasionally wants her.
Fatima settles against his chest, closing her eyes again. No more teasing.]
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[She sees what you're doing, Winchester.
It bothers her more than she cares to admit. The nagging feeling that Sam is hiding something from her. Or worse yet, trying to shield her from something. The former, she could deal with, if that's what it was. But the latter hits a nerve. She's a grown-ass woman. And she deserves to be treated as an equal. Not some pathetic...
Well, it doesn't matter.]
We're going through both, regardless of "should."
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I know. [ He wishes he had answers. ] It's not easy.
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[Nothing really to say to that. If wishes were horses, and all that.
She lowers her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a long stretch.]
I should have found you. I'm sorry I didn't.
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I can say the same thing.
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[She just can't handle his self-effacing drama right now.]
Just say...I don't know. Something classy like, "Oh, baby, don't worry about it."
Only don't cal me "baby" because it's patronizing and you are way too white to pull it off.
[Making jokes? Someone's gone back into defensive shut-down again.]
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We're here now. That's what matters.
[ Is that better? ]
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Acceptable.
[Nodding more to the word choice than the sentiment, apparently.
She closes her eyes, letting her head thunk softly against the wall once.]
You are going to have to tell me someday.
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I know.
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Why does that scare you?
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You don't want to ask that.
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Don't tell me what I do or don't want to do.
I asked the questioned because I wanted to ask it and because I want to know. I'm not a child, Sam. I've seen every bit as much horror in life has you have.
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[ He just seems to be saying all the wrong things, doesn't he? He sighs, exhaling low through his nose as he rubs the back of his neck. ]
--it's not...about you. Honestly. And you're already sick of hearing me bitch, and I don't wanna sound like a broken record so...it's better to just not ask.
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I want you to bitch to me.
[She slips two fingers under his chin, turning his face up toward hers.]
So when you're being unnecessarily hard on yourself, I can smack you on the side of the head and tell you that you're being ridiculous.
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Can we...--can I take a raincheck on the head smacking?
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Still, Fatima doesn't want to push. Her fingers graze the side of his head lightly, then fall away.]
Yes.
But only a raincheck.
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Thank you.
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And, well, when she can't reconcile things, her unsettled feelings can only manifest one way...]
So. About your hair.
[Yeah. The corners of her lips might be a little twitchy.]
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...What about it?
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[She kisses the side of his head.]
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Fatima, why do you do this. He huffs, tightening his hold and giving her shoulder a kiss despite the teasing. ]
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Well. It's just nice to know that he occasionally wants her.
Fatima settles against his chest, closing her eyes again. No more teasing.]