WHO: Sam and Heather. WHAT: Sam is a little crazy. WHERE: Some random hotel. WHEN: Post the Lazarus Pits. RATING: TBD.
It had been an odd sort of evening. He had spaced out after being brought to the hotel. Sam mostly managed to keep to himself, holed away in the corner of the room with a pair of handcuffs slapped onto one of his wrists. It kept him in place, away from everyone else who circulated through the room. With the cuffs wrapped around the bedpost behind him, Sam had nothing to do but sit in place. The TV set was on for the purpose of distracting him it seemed, but he hardly seemed interested in paying it any mind at all. Instead, he chose to keep his head down, occasionally muttering something completely inaudible under his breath. Sam felt confused. Different. But he was supposed to feel this way, wasn't he? Somewhere, deep down, he knew that. This was okay. It wasn't right, but it was how things were supposed to be. He was supposed to feel the way that he did now. Paranoid and confused. There were short flashes of anger that flooded through him every now and again, but he hadn't acted out on any of it enough to seriously hurt anyone as of yet. Hopefully it would stay that way.
His free arm raised itself to rub at the side of his head and Sam slumped back against the bedpost with a grunt. "Extrapolation of the expansion of the universe backwards in time..." He closed his eyes and smacked his head against the wall. "..the universe has a calculated age of 13.73 ± 0.12 billion years...are you a pirate?" He laughed and smacked his head against the wall again. "No..."