[She kisses him. Once. Twice. And a third, lingering time, nipping at his lower lip before slooooowly pulling away. She doesn't go far. Her nose touches his, her lips ghosting over his as she coyly whispers:]
I want you...to tell me a secret you have never told a living being in your entire life.
[ Though the kisses surprise him and encourage his hands to wander a bit, her request does catch him off guard. Sam blinks twice before giving a breathy laugh. ]
Okay, you've got me--I wasn't expecting that.
[ Unfortunately, Sam keeps most things to himself and what secrets he has? They're secrets for a reason. They're not pleasant and not the kind of thing to share over pillow talk.
He exhales slowly and settles back on the mattress. What could he share that would suffice? It's clear he's putting some thought I to it, but it's better than him outright refusing, right? Sam is pretty good at dancing around a subject he doesn't want to talk about. ]
I'm not sure I'm as interesting and mysterious a person as you think.
[There's some satisfaction in surprising him, of course. But she doesn't gloat. Instead, she watches him, her fingers continuing to graze his skin lightly.]
Everyone has something they've never told anyone.
[She laughs a little.]
I'll tell you one of mine.
When I was six, we had a couple Mormon missionaries visit the compound. I heard them talking about paradise and Salt Lake City and got it into my six-year-old head that Salt Lake was some kind of magical place filled with waterfalls and unicorns. So I went up to my room and packed my pink, Barbie suitcase, and told my mother that I was going to go to the bus station because I was ready to go see the unicorns.
[ It's a cute image, really--a tiny Fatima ready to go tame the city of unicorns. Sam's been to Salt Lake City and it definitely wasn't that magical. No unicorns. He would have remembered. ]
In retrospect, I think she was trying very, very hard not to laugh at me.
I'm pretty sure one of the things I packed was an orange, plastic telephone. And one of her saris that I used for dress-up.
[Her childhood wasn't even remotely normal, but thinking about her youthful treasures...it was normal enough.
Whatever "enough" means.
She shrugs one shoulder up slightly.]
She sat me down and explained to me that there were neither waterfalls nor unicorns in Salt Lake City. And that it was important for me not to believe everything I heard without thinking it through for myself.
[ He did, didn't he? Except...it's still hard, and her own aside didn't really give him the time he needed to think of something. He's quiet for a moment, clearly attempting to pull up something worthwhile, but in typical Sam Winchester fashion, not terribly personal. ]
I wrote a paper about my brother, dad, and I going out on a hunt. For school.
[ He didn't tell Dean or John. They would've been pissed, but Sam knew no one would take it seriously. ]
Didn't tell anyone for obvious reasons...and I was pretty sure my teacher was gonna fail me. [ A beat. ] He gave me an A.
[ That teacher had a huge impact on him, too. The first person to really tell him that it was okay to go after what you want, that you have the option of going against your family's wishes. ]
[Absently, she kisses his upper arm. Thoughts swirl around her mind. She wonders why the teacher was just okay with that. And why Sam chose to do it. And why this was the secret he chose to tell.]
If anyone had done that at my school, it would have been a one-way ticket to the guidance counselor.
It did happen, sometimes. Some of the other kids on the compound just...cracked.
[ There's a short smile at that. Yeah, he had been pretty sure that would've been the outcome, too. But it wasn't. Strangely, it wasn't. And while Mr. Wyatt hadn't taken it as a literal depiction of the requested family moment, he saw the underlying meaning behind it, which is something Sam felt like no one had cared to see before.
He'd tried to do anything but the family business. It didn't quite work out that way, but that man? He appreciated him. He still does. ]
Can't blame them. It's not always easy trying to blend in.
We never spent more than a month in one place--there was no time to get to know anyone, to make friends, to really have what you do matter. I didn't think anyone would believe me, anyway.
[There aren't words to describe it. Awful just doesn't seem like an adjective powerful enough. As much as Fatima's childhood was not of the norm, at least she had a home. And friends. A sense of community.
[ She's giving him way too much credit. His smile is a little sad, because--because he wishes he didn't. He always coveted the ignorance of those sorts of things, always wished he could switch places. Now he knows he can't, he won't because he doesn't want to put this on anyone else, but he doesn't think that makes him a good person.
He wants to be a good person. He's not sure if he is. ]
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I doubt that.
[ Unless she's suddenly developed a terribly kinky side in the last ten minutes, he thinks he can handle it. ]
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[She kisses him. Once. Twice. And a third, lingering time, nipping at his lower lip before slooooowly pulling away. She doesn't go far. Her nose touches his, her lips ghosting over his as she coyly whispers:]
I want you...to tell me a secret you have never told a living being in your entire life.
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Okay, you've got me--I wasn't expecting that.
[ Unfortunately, Sam keeps most things to himself and what secrets he has? They're secrets for a reason. They're not pleasant and not the kind of thing to share over pillow talk.
He exhales slowly and settles back on the mattress. What could he share that would suffice? It's clear he's putting some thought I to it, but it's better than him outright refusing, right? Sam is pretty good at dancing around a subject he doesn't want to talk about. ]
I'm not sure I'm as interesting and mysterious a person as you think.
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Everyone has something they've never told anyone.
[She laughs a little.]
I'll tell you one of mine.
When I was six, we had a couple Mormon missionaries visit the compound. I heard them talking about paradise and Salt Lake City and got it into my six-year-old head that Salt Lake was some kind of magical place filled with waterfalls and unicorns. So I went up to my room and packed my pink, Barbie suitcase, and told my mother that I was going to go to the bus station because I was ready to go see the unicorns.
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What did she say?
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I'm pretty sure one of the things I packed was an orange, plastic telephone. And one of her saris that I used for dress-up.
[Her childhood wasn't even remotely normal, but thinking about her youthful treasures...it was normal enough.
Whatever "enough" means.
She shrugs one shoulder up slightly.]
She sat me down and explained to me that there were neither waterfalls nor unicorns in Salt Lake City. And that it was important for me not to believe everything I heard without thinking it through for myself.
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Well, that is something to take away from it.
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[Fatima smiles, and not without a healthy amount of pride.]
Arty says she was the best queen the Order had ever seen.
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[ He doesn't know the woman, and he never will, really, but Fatima turned out alright. ]
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Your turn. You offered to do things for me.
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I wrote a paper about my brother, dad, and I going out on a hunt. For school.
[ He didn't tell Dean or John. They would've been pissed, but Sam knew no one would take it seriously. ]
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Parvana, Arty, or Liam would all have had Fatima's hide if she tried to do something like that.
She raises an eyebrow.]
How old were you?
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[ He wrinkles his nose a bit. ]
Didn't tell anyone for obvious reasons...and I was pretty sure my teacher was gonna fail me. [ A beat. ] He gave me an A.
[ That teacher had a huge impact on him, too. The first person to really tell him that it was okay to go after what you want, that you have the option of going against your family's wishes. ]
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If anyone had done that at my school, it would have been a one-way ticket to the guidance counselor.
It did happen, sometimes. Some of the other kids on the compound just...cracked.
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He'd tried to do anything but the family business. It didn't quite work out that way, but that man? He appreciated him. He still does. ]
Can't blame them. It's not always easy trying to blend in.
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Why'd you do it? You must have known what could happen.
[Even in a world without a Masquerade... Sam's damn smart.]
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I was tired. And angry.
[ As was he was most of his childhood. ]
We never spent more than a month in one place--there was no time to get to know anyone, to make friends, to really have what you do matter. I didn't think anyone would believe me, anyway.
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[There aren't words to describe it. Awful just doesn't seem like an adjective powerful enough. As much as Fatima's childhood was not of the norm, at least she had a home. And friends. A sense of community.
No. She can't find the right word for it. But...]
That tells me something important about you.
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What?
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[To be wonderful after that kind of adversity? It's astonishing.]
There aren't hunters like you, where I come from. Most of them are...I don't know. Not really human. But you are all the best things about humans.
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I don't know about that.
[ At school he really didn't feel like a human. He felt like something that shouldn't exist. ]
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I mean...
You could have ended up like...Dean.
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[ Perhaps not the best subject, but the mood has already changed, hasn't it? ]
--isn't...the same Dean I knew. Or you knew. What he went through--
[ Isn't something anyone should have to. And something Sam takes responsibility for. It was his actions, after all. It was always him. ]
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[Why are words so hard? And why is she so good at saying the wrong ones at the worst possible moment?]
You know about the things that go bump in the night. You're wise. But you're still...kind. Nice. Decent.
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He wants to be a good person. He's not sure if he is. ]
I'd hate to see the hunters you've run into.
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