i_carry_on (i_carry_on) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2013-04-15 22:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | sam winchester, zz:status complete |
Waffles? (Narrative)
Sam knew that he couldn't wallow in self-loathing forever. As much as he thought he deserved it, the people around him deserved better. He needed to find a way to make things right. Dean left mid-day for the first time since Sam had gotten his soul back. Sam took that as a good thing-his brother needed to do more than just hang around here. Dean deserved better than that.
The younger Winchester realized, with some surprise, that he was hungry. He hadn't really been thinking about food much over the last few days, though his brother had kept him fed. Well it was now lunchtime and his stomach was growling.
He frowned at the odd gift basket of... waffle mixes and syrups? Who sent that sort of thing? And why would they send it?
He wondered if it was something Dinah had sent to make sure that Dean wasn't going hungry over here. He didn't think on it much further and didn't touch the gift basket that he was sure wasn't his. Instead, he started looking through the fridge for something easy to make. Eggs seemed like they could work. Of course, eggs meant needing a spatula and Sam wasn't even sure he owned one. He started looking through the drawers of the apartment that had belonged to a different Sam before him-a better Sam, from what he knew. At least one that hadn't gone around trying to kill people. It was the second drawer that he tried where he found the card that had been stashed in there.
So I heard you got your soul back...
He stared at the words and then at the signature accompanying the words. For a second, he wondered if there was some other Fred that would be sending a card. Because why would that Fred want anything to do with him at all?
Sam closed his eyes and set the card down, trying not to think about the flashbacks that had haunted him both while he slept and was awake. He remembered Fred. He remembered that she'd been nice to him upon his arrival in the City, though at the time she hadn't realized that he was a different Sam, hadn't realized that he was empty inside.
Worst of all, he remembered hurting her. He remembered chasing her down, shooting her. Burning her building and leaving her for dead. Hot tears stung at his eyes and he was a little glad that Dean wasn't around to see that, that he didn't have to answer the questions that might accompany those. He stuffed the card back in the drawer and went back to his place on the couch. He was no longer hungry. Instead, he just sat and buried his face in his hands.