WHO: Sam and Heather. WHAT: Shopping for wedding stuff. And a ring. Cue awkward Sam. WHEN: Afternoon. WHERE: Just out and about. Probably a mall or something. RATING: TBD.
Two days ago, Sam Winchester never would have even put any thought into preparing himself for the wedding that was to come. Piling that onto his plate, along with everything else, would have been far too much for him to deal with. He had been away from his family, under the manipulative hold of the demon that had made him into what he was, and had made an attempt on an ally's life. Being in that particular situation generally deemed one as nothing short of distracted. And distracted he was, even now after the demon who had forced him to stray from his path was gone. He was gone. Dead. Forever? Hopefully. Sam didn't know if he could face the son of a bitch off again; especially not after seeing how easy it was for him to get under his skin. He didn't want him back. Lilith alone was more than enough.
Lilith. Not only had he almost pawned himself off to her, but he had lost someone to the demon nearly right after. A surge of hatred twisted through his chest at the thought. He placed his palms flat against the wall of the dressing room and bowed his head. Eyes screwed shut, Sam drew in several unsteady breaths; his heart felt like it was going to just stop in place right then and there. A part of him wished that it would, while his more rational half argued that he had to keep going.
Keep fighting. It's what Dean had told him before he had gotten dragged into hell. And it was exactly what Sam repeated back to Jack during the prior evening when he'd asked for advice on dealing. He didn't know if the younger man was going to follow with it or not, but Sam knew that he was. Because that was all that he could do. He'd learned, soon after losing his brother, that dragging himself under wasn't the way to deal. He had to move on. He had to keep himself together. She would have wanted it, after all.
Running a hand over his face, Sam lifted his chin and looked at himself in the mirror pinned to the wall. He was wearing a black tuxedo, one that, for the first time since his arrival here in the store, didn't look too formal for his liking. And it fit. He'd gone through a few of them already, but they were, for the most part, usually too short for him to actually fit into. This was one was nice. Comfortable, even.
"I think this one looks all right," Sam announced, turning away from the mirror. He pulled back the curtains that shielded his side of the room from what resided beyond it and stepped out. The clerk that had been assisting him was off bustling around with another customer, so Sam glanced over at Heather and shrugged.