WHO: Sam and Faith. WHAT: Pizza. And stuff. WHEN: Backdated. WHERE: The Hyperion. RATING: TBD.
The day had certainly been the farthest thing from a pleasant one. It had started out rather slowly. Sam woke up, got dressed, went around digging for information on that personal project that he had been working at, and he eventually found himself at the bank, trying to figure out how much money he could spare to put into the college fund that he planned on prepping up for his and Heather's future child. A terrifying thing, that was. He had looked so jumpy and on edge while he was sitting in the corner, his fingers threading over the paperwork held out in front of him as he attempted to keep himself from panicking too much at the though of what it was that he was doing. Creating a college fund. For his son. Or daughter. Whichever one he ended up with. Sam honestly didn't care. He wasn't really in the mindset to care. Did it really matter? There was going to be a child in his arms in a few months, one that he'd have to take care of and raise and try his best to avoid screwing up. He couldn't even think that far ahead. He was still stuck on: Heather - pregnant. Pregnant Heather equals a child. Child equals a lifetime of responsibility and dedication. Something that Sam hardly thought he was capable of.
Raking an unsteady hand through his hair, Sam stared down at the sheets of paper that were spread out in front of him. Numbers, blank spaces, lots of words. Sam was good at this stuff. The deskwork, the reading. Usually. Now he couldn't even concentrate enough to get his name down. Reaching for his phone, Sam slid the screen to the side and worked at connecting to the internet. Maybe something there could help him regain his nerves, at least on the nerves. A post from Heather or...
Faith's friend. The Slayer. The one who suddenly knew all about how he had killed Faith when the horseman were running around. Always a sore subject with him, Sam felt a surge of anger twist around inside of him. Before he realized it, he had managed to vent out his frustrations on the boards in a way that even he found to be a little...well, immature. He didn't need the world knowing that some kid was harassing him. A couple months ago he wouldn't have even cared. Of course, back then, Sam really didn't give a damn about much of anything. Just killing Lilith. Or killing himself. He still really wasn't sure which of the two he had wanted more. Things were a lot more different now though. He was older, he had learned more, and he had gotten to trust people. It used to be just him and Dean. That was all he had. Now he had a bunch of people that he could lean on and that made all the difference with him. He was able to open up, talk to people. Do things that he rarely did when he wasn't around Dean back then. Things had changed. A whole hell of a lot, he realized. For the better? Honestly, Sam really wasn't sure. Sometimes he felt like being closed off was the best way to go. But then people like Heather and Faith pushed at him and the next thing he knew he was talking. They generally had that kind of effect on him. They knew how to get him to open up.
Just like Sam knew how to cheer someone up. Figuring that Faith could use a little bit of company after their conversation, Sam promised her a pizza and started to pack up. He'd come back later to finish all of this. He didn't really have to hurry, did he? Shoving all of the paperwork into a folder, he waved off at one of the tellers, who had been chatting him up every couple minutes (annoyingly), and took off for the doors. Twenty minutes later, he was stepping through the front doors of the Hyperion. A box of pizza was clutched to his side, while his other arm held fast to a plastic bag, which carried a few sodas. Making sure that everything was clear up at the front desk about him being in the area (Faith said that she would get him all checked in, but Sam liked to be consistent - making sure was important), Sam started moving in the direction of Faith's room, figuring that she would, at least, be pleased to see her food delivered.