"I didn't say that," Sam said, a note of protest in her voice, but she was smiling too. She felt sure that she also looked like crap, because she certainly felt like it-- from sleeping badly, from worrying, from simply not caring about her appearance in favor of everything else that was going on-- but saying so would have felt like fishing for compliments, which really wasn't her style. "I don't think any of us are really handling this all that well, but you know. If you actually feel like crap, there are doctors here that could probably help you."
She shifted in her seat and took another drink, staring out at the sky. Which wasn't really the sky, not in the sense that it was a region of the atmosphere, but she felt like the term could still apply to the region of the universe that she could see from... wherever she was. She'd looked at Kal'Reegar's map of the galaxy until her eyes crossed, but that didn't really help with adjusting to simply looking out the window and seeing so much space looking back at her.
"I know she does," she said with a slight smile. "She's just got a really funny way of showing it." Although she'd doubted it as a child, she'd become aware of how much her mother loved her and Deanna as she'd gotten older, and learned to interpret the controlling, overbearing, overprotectiveness as a substitute for actually saying so. It didn't mean that it drove her any less insane, however. Vaguely, she wondered what it had been like during the time they'd spent in hell together-- if they'd managed to argue even then, or if Lucifer and Mikal had managed to keep them occupied enough to avoid it. The latter seemed plausible, but on the other hand, it was hard to imagine being trapped with her mother for however long it had been in hell time without getting into an argument. "That and we're just too much alike. I'm nearly as stubborn and controlling as she is, just... well, I like to think I manage it a little better."
She gave a slight laugh at that. It was definitely true that her interpersonal skills were better, most of the time anyway, than her mother's. She was more willing to be sympathetic, to deal with her emotions, to work with other people. Working with her mother brought out the worst in her, though; her temper, her stubbornness, her issues with authority. She didn't so much need to control everything and everyone around her as she needed not to be controlled. Although she had her own control freak moments, too, which Deanna had pointed out to her on occasion.
"Sure," she said. "Maybe not right now. But at some point, I'd like to see that."