[ He's relieved to hear there isn't another incident he should be aware of, but he still pauses at the second part. Choose between them?
It'd been easier when Dean had just dragged Sam out if school. He'd had a life away from hunting, then. He'd had a future, he'd had Jess. Did he miss his brother then? Oh yes. But he'd more or less become resigned to his decisions and their consequences. He have up family to pave his own path. Hell, even after Jessica's death there had been a time when he thought he'd go back to school once they got the demon who did it all. Now he knows it's not that simple.
Would he have to choose? Isn't that what Dean has been trying to get him to do?
Can he live without his brother again? Even this cynical, volatile, terribly bent and broken version?
Sam exhales and wraps his arm around her instead. ]
That's not going to happen.
[ It's said in a manner that suggests it's simply because he says so. ]
[There are stormclouds behind Sam's eyes. She doesn't have to see them to know what's happening. She's gotten used to his pensive face, the way his mind is always in some kind of thunderstorm, except for a moment or two every once in awhile when they're in the middle of lovemaking.
The one thing she can't really do is understand what's going on inside of those tempests of thought. She wishes she could read minds, especially his. Or, at least, grasp a wisp of thought.
It would be easier than guessing. Mostly because she always guesses the worst thing possible. That's how the world works. Her world, anyway. Probably his too, based on what she's heard. Worst case scenarios are usually inevitable.]
No. It's not. Because I'm going to make it easier for you.
[ That's enough to get an amused huff from him. Sam leans forward, resting his forehead on the back of her shoulder as his hand stills on her stomach. ]
It's a nice thought, Fatima, but you can't make Dean easier. He's...got to accept some things. That you probably shouldn't be there for.
[ Lest he lash out, Sam would much rather be the target. ]
[Even if she could, she wouldn't go down that road. It's a thing she has about Cainites screwing with people's free will. Heavy baggage, but not relevant at the moment.]
I'm talking about trying to make some choices easier for you.
[She slides her hand over his, her fingers falling in between his, neatly.]
There's this thing that a lot of people don't like to talk about. About how this place is torturing us. Testing us. It's brilliant, really.
[All of that effort and foresight and intelligence wasted on such a horrible pursuit is tragic, but it's reality. No sense in crying over it.]
When we were down in the labyrinth, I tried to follow Dean because I knew you'd be looking for him.
Let me be clear on something: When things get bad, I expect you to go for Dean first. I want you to go for Dean first. Not me. Him. And if the two of us are ever being thrown off a cliff and you can only save one of us, you choose him.
[ He doesn't like this at all. Making these decisions easier for him by telling him what to do? No. That is a line of thought that has never sat well with Sam. It's why he and his father disagreed so often and it hasn't changed. ]
Every situation is different, okay? I know his strengths and weaknesses. I know what he can handle. [ Sometimes better than Dean himself, it feels like. ] And we have others, like Cas, just--don't. Okay?
[ He almost feels the need to prove her wrong, to show he can have it all if he wants. But something more sobering comes to mind. ]
[To her credit, she does stop. It probably wasn't the most delicate phrasing she could have used, but she figured it would just be easier to get it all out.
Evidently not.
She rolls over beneath him, turning into her back so that she can face him properly, her bra getting a little tangled in the process. One hand touches his face.]
It's not about what Dean can handle. It's about what we both know he can't handle.
[And what Sam can't handle, for that matter. Which is losing the brother he loves. But far be it for her to point that out.]
And what do you mean I'm wrong? I'm never wrong. I'm just that awesome.
[It's a thin attempt at humor, but she wants it to be clear to Sam that she's not looking for some kind of knight errant here.]
[ Dean can't handle a lot, he knows. He knows that things really come down to Sam--perhaps subconsciously. But he doesn't like to think about it. He shakes his head, leaning slightly in to the touch of her hand. ]
[ He shakes his head again, but this time he pulls away. What she's asking from him, he can't promise it. He can't promise anything to her or Dean for several reasons. The only thing he can say is that he'll do everything in his power to save them both if it comes down to it.
But no matter what she says, he's not going to just complacently agree who to put value on. Is Dean the one he always goes back to, would do anything for? Yes. Even with all his character defects. But she can't devalue herself either. And they both know Sam would much prefer to sacrifice himself than have to see either of them hurt.
He lets go, shifting onto his own back on the tight space beside her and runs his hands up and down his face. ]
[ Sam drops his hands to his sides and stares up at the bunk above them. ]
You didn't piss me off.
[ It's pretty clear when Sam is upset. It takes a long time for that fire to burn, but once it does, Sam is a lightening storm. Right now? Frustrated is probably closer. ]
I thought it would be easier. I really, really did.
[And Fatima falls silent for a moment, averting her eyes, staring at a spot on his chest. She replays the conversation a couple of times, forwards and back, analyzing each detail to see where she went wrong.
Maybe she went wrong long before it even started. She just doesn't understand the relationship between brothers. She can't.
But she does understand having someone in your life you'd die for. Or kill for. Or both.]
All right. Then I have something else I want you to promise me instead.
[And with that, she swings her leg over him, pulling herself up to straddle his torso. She just barely manages to avoid hitting her head on the upper bunk, although her hair does get a little caught in the boxsprings.]
[ Her boldness is a pleasant surprise, although the consequences of her actions make him chuckle. ]
Hold still.
[ He reaches up to pull the tendrils of hair free--he knows exactly how not fun it is to have your hair yanked. Well, at least when sex isn't involved. ]
[Of course, he would think of her hair. Not that she's about to start nagging him about letting her cut it again right now. But still. It's kind of funny. And it makes her smile as she leans in, her lips just hovering over his ear so she can whisper:]
[ He smiles at that. His hands run along the length of her thighs, stopping at her waist. He's not sure where this is going, but he's sure he'll like it. ]
That's okay.
[ Her breath on his ear tickled the hair around it. ]
Do whatever you want.
[ He'll follow her lead for once. Which is not something Sam Winchester usually does in the bedroom. ]
[For someone as bossy as Fatima, it's very hard to be submissive. But she yields to Sam's experience in general. At least in bed. She's a much better vampire hunter than he is, she's sure.
The phrase "Do whatever you want" causes some very mixed emotions, chiefly triumph and anxiety.
Fatima nips at his ear lightly, slowly working her hips against his. There's a timidity to it, uncertainty. But she's nothing if not adventurous.]
[ There is something special about going along this journey as she discovers her own sexuality. He's never been with someone like her before, on many levels. But things have already changed from the first time they kissed. That same eagerness, the upfront honesty that keeps him grounded, he can see it brimming beneath the surface. While Sam much prefers to feel in control of the situation, even in bed, they've reached the point where he feels comfortable enough to step back a bit and let her explore what she wants.
The motion of her hips, while tentative, is enough to reawaken his interest. He sucks in a breath through his nose at the nips as grips her hips more tightly, but not enough to hinder her movement. This is her show, after all. ]
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Oh, that's what I thought. [ He places a kiss at the bottom of her hairline. ] Then my question still stands; what makes you think you aren't?
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Admitting she screwed up.]
I lied to cover for your brother.
[...being an ass. But it doesn't feel right to say that in bed.]
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Yeah, I noticed.
[ But she'd already come clean, hadn't she? Was there something else? ]
Or...are you talking about something else?
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[He was there the time Dean tried to light her on fire. And she's pretty sure she told him about the time Dean tried to shoot her too.
Did she mention the time Dean threatened her with Roddy's life? She can't remember, but it doesn't seem worth mentioning now. Roddy's not here.
She's quiet for a moment, enjoying his weight on her back.]
I was afraid to put you in some kind of position where you'd have to choose between us.
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It'd been easier when Dean had just dragged Sam out if school. He'd had a life away from hunting, then. He'd had a future, he'd had Jess. Did he miss his brother then? Oh yes. But he'd more or less become resigned to his decisions and their consequences. He have up family to pave his own path. Hell, even after Jessica's death there had been a time when he thought he'd go back to school once they got the demon who did it all. Now he knows it's not that simple.
Would he have to choose? Isn't that what Dean has been trying to get him to do?
Can he live without his brother again? Even this cynical, volatile, terribly bent and broken version?
Sam exhales and wraps his arm around her instead. ]
That's not going to happen.
[ It's said in a manner that suggests it's simply because he says so. ]
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The one thing she can't really do is understand what's going on inside of those tempests of thought. She wishes she could read minds, especially his. Or, at least, grasp a wisp of thought.
It would be easier than guessing. Mostly because she always guesses the worst thing possible. That's how the world works. Her world, anyway. Probably his too, based on what she's heard. Worst case scenarios are usually inevitable.]
No. It's not. Because I'm going to make it easier for you.
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It's a nice thought, Fatima, but you can't make Dean easier. He's...got to accept some things. That you probably shouldn't be there for.
[ Lest he lash out, Sam would much rather be the target. ]
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[Even if she could, she wouldn't go down that road. It's a thing she has about Cainites screwing with people's free will. Heavy baggage, but not relevant at the moment.]
I'm talking about trying to make some choices easier for you.
[She slides her hand over his, her fingers falling in between his, neatly.]
There's this thing that a lot of people don't like to talk about. About how this place is torturing us. Testing us. It's brilliant, really.
[All of that effort and foresight and intelligence wasted on such a horrible pursuit is tragic, but it's reality. No sense in crying over it.]
When we were down in the labyrinth, I tried to follow Dean because I knew you'd be looking for him.
Let me be clear on something: When things get bad, I expect you to go for Dean first. I want you to go for Dean first. Not me. Him. And if the two of us are ever being thrown off a cliff and you can only save one of us, you choose him.
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[ He doesn't like this at all. Making these decisions easier for him by telling him what to do? No. That is a line of thought that has never sat well with Sam. It's why he and his father disagreed so often and it hasn't changed. ]
Every situation is different, okay? I know his strengths and weaknesses. I know what he can handle. [ Sometimes better than Dean himself, it feels like. ] And we have others, like Cas, just--don't. Okay?
[ He almost feels the need to prove her wrong, to show he can have it all if he wants. But something more sobering comes to mind. ]
You're wrong, you know. About the labyrinth.
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Evidently not.
She rolls over beneath him, turning into her back so that she can face him properly, her bra getting a little tangled in the process. One hand touches his face.]
It's not about what Dean can handle. It's about what we both know he can't handle.
[And what Sam can't handle, for that matter. Which is losing the brother he loves. But far be it for her to point that out.]
And what do you mean I'm wrong? I'm never wrong. I'm just that awesome.
[It's a thin attempt at humor, but she wants it to be clear to Sam that she's not looking for some kind of knight errant here.]
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I didn't look for Dean.
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[His words, exactly. Although, for the life of her, she has no idea what the hell that means.]
We both know that if it were in your control, you would have.
Gorgeous, I've seen the man come and go four times. I get what he means to you. Believe me.
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But no matter what she says, he's not going to just complacently agree who to put value on. Is Dean the one he always goes back to, would do anything for? Yes. Even with all his character defects. But she can't devalue herself either. And they both know Sam would much prefer to sacrifice himself than have to see either of them hurt.
He lets go, shifting onto his own back on the tight space beside her and runs his hands up and down his face. ]
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I did that thing again, didn't I? That thing where I tried to make things better and I just pissed you off.
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You didn't piss me off.
[ It's pretty clear when Sam is upset. It takes a long time for that fire to burn, but once it does, Sam is a lightening storm. Right now? Frustrated is probably closer. ]
I just can't promise you what you want me to.
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[And Fatima falls silent for a moment, averting her eyes, staring at a spot on his chest. She replays the conversation a couple of times, forwards and back, analyzing each detail to see where she went wrong.
Maybe she went wrong long before it even started. She just doesn't understand the relationship between brothers. She can't.
But she does understand having someone in your life you'd die for. Or kill for. Or both.]
All right. Then I have something else I want you to promise me instead.
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Yeah?
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It's really easy.
Just promise me that...that if you want to end this little...adventure that we're on...
[Somehow, the phrases "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" feel too mundane at the moment.]
...that if you decide you want to break up, it'll be because I'm a dumbass. Not because Dean is being a...
[...dumbass...]
...jerk.
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If he hasn't managed it by now, I think we're okay.
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I told you it would be easy.
[And with that, she swings her leg over him, pulling herself up to straddle his torso. She just barely manages to avoid hitting her head on the upper bunk, although her hair does get a little caught in the boxsprings.]
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Hold still.
[ He reaches up to pull the tendrils of hair free--he knows exactly how not fun it is to have your hair yanked. Well, at least when sex isn't involved. ]
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I have no idea what I'm doing.
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That's okay.
[ Her breath on his ear tickled the hair around it. ]
Do whatever you want.
[ He'll follow her lead for once. Which is not something Sam Winchester usually does in the bedroom. ]
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The phrase "Do whatever you want" causes some very mixed emotions, chiefly triumph and anxiety.
Fatima nips at his ear lightly, slowly working her hips against his. There's a timidity to it, uncertainty. But she's nothing if not adventurous.]
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The motion of her hips, while tentative, is enough to reawaken his interest. He sucks in a breath through his nose at the nips as grips her hips more tightly, but not enough to hinder her movement. This is her show, after all. ]
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