sam winchester (bornunder) wrote in the100, @ 2016-01-24 22:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, kate bishop / hawkeye (616), sam winchester |
WHO: ickle!Sam and normal Kate
WHAT: Sam wakes up tiny and it's kind of awkward.
WHEN: Monday morning, early (a little bit forward-dated)
WHERE: their room
WARNINGS: well, the age difference is a little uncomfortable, but at least they're not naked.
STATUS: logged, complete
It’ll all be better when you wake up. You’ll see.
Promise.
For a long time Sam had thought he wouldn’t even sleep at all. He was too upset, too scared, but some part of him must have believed and trusted in Dean’s promise because he did fall asleep eventually. He knew it only in hindsight, after he woke up.
And the moment he did, he knew something was wrong. It was too dark, for one thing; even with the lights off in the hotel room, there had still been light coming in from the window. The bed underneath him was different, his clothes felt too big, the whole room just felt different to all of his senses, and - was that someone in the bed next to him?
In the dark, he reached out and touched hair - long hair. It wasn’t Dean, and there wasn’t anyone else in the room. In his fear, he felt certain that it must be a monster - that this was why Dean kept a gun under his pillow, for monsters that showed up in bed as well as underneath it. Swallowing down the urge to scream, he scrambled off the bed -
Or at least, he tried. He got tangled in his own clothes and in the sheets, and ended up falling inelegantly onto the floor. He landed heavily on his side with a loud thump.
--
Kate was definitely not a monster, but it was hard to tell in the dark. Women had strange curves and hair that could strangle in the night. She wasn't conscious, not until there was a loud noise in the room — a body hitting the concrete floor — and even then it took her a few seconds to completely wake up. A groan was followed by a timid, "Sam? You ok? What happened?"
She was used to his disturbed sleep. Kate rarely said anything, but she could tell whenever he was having a nightmare. He didn't thrash around, but sometimes there was the occasional twitch or mumble. Kate reached out across the best blindly, her hand slapping for the table next to the bed to turn on the light. It took a good few slaps before she found it.
When the light broke the soothing darkness of the room, Kate let out a shriek and yanked the covers up and over her in an automatic reaction. "What the hell? Where's Sam?"
--
Motivated by adrenaline and confusion (whoever or whatever was in the room with him knew his name) Sam had managed to scramble to his feet by the time the lights came on. And then he stared, because the woman in front of him was about as far from scary and monstrous as he could have imagined.
Thankfully, he was more covered than she was. It appeared that he was wearing an incredibly oversized t-shirt, which was a good thing because his boxers had fallen down and gotten tangled around his ankles. He flushed, shifted his weight self-consciously, and would have averted his gaze entirely except for the fact that she was asking about Sam and… that was confusing.
“Um,” he began, flustered, “My name is Sam?” He’d intended it as a statement, but the inflection of his voice lifted at the end, making it sound like a question instead.
--
This had to be a joke. Or some kind of prank. If this was Dean or Cas, it was seriously not funny. Kate felt like the creepiest creep for staring at this kid who was wearing what Sam had gone to bed with — sort of, the boxers were definitely on the floor now that she wasn't so bleary-eyed. She was so used to Sam's movements and habits that she could swear she would have noticed if he'd gotten up in the middle of the night. He was a big guy — they called him Moose and Sasquatch — she would have had to be dead to the world not to notice him getting out of bed.
Which is when it hit her. This was pretty damn similar to the whole waking up as a Skrull thing. Now that she was looking at this kid, she realized just how familiar he looked. He was scrawny and short, and while his hair was shorter, she could see the man he'd grow up to become.
Mount Weather, no.
Kate smacked one of her hands to her forehead, moving it down to rub her eyes. "Winchester?" she asked without removing her hand. "Samuel Winchester. Born May 2 to Mary and John Winchester? Older brother Dean?" Those questions should clear this right up. Sort of.
--
Now Sam was staring for an entirely different reason. She had called him Sam, and that was weird enough, but it was a common enough name. She hadn’t meant some other Sam, though. She’d really been asking for him.
Was there some kind of monster that knew everything about you just by looking? Or… a psychic? Those existed too, right?
She still didn’t seem dangerous, though. So, hesitantly, he said, “Yes?”
--
Okay, so that answered that. Sam had been turned young somehow, which wasn't actually the strangest thing. She exhaled through her mouth, making a funny sound, as she tried to figure out what to do. Dean and Castiel were first on her list of people to talk to.
Right after she figured out where to get him some pants. She had the sneaking suspicion that none of Sam's clothes were going to fit him, and Kate desperately needed him to be wearing pants right now. It was weird and awkward and icky. God, at least they hadn't woken up naked.
"And you have no idea who I am?" If he didn't, that meant it likely wasn't just a body thing, but a mental thing. That'd give her a direction to go.
--
Unsure what else to do, Sam shook his head. He really wanted to know what was going on, but he didn’t. He didn’t even know where his proper clothes were. Or where he was.
“You know Dean?” he asked, latching on to the one thing she’d said that had kind of made sense. “Is he here?”
--
Kate tossed her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. It was cold in Mount Weather in January, despite the warmth from the ventilation system. Kate grabbed another sweater from off her pile of clothes and tossed it over her head. "Yeah, he's — he's a lot older than you'll remember him."
It was a good thing had a lot of experience with weird shit, because this was definitely weird. And it was definitely shit. A few more steps and it might even be outside of Kate's comfort zone. It was already verging on it. She rubbed her eye with her finger then gestured forward the door on the other side of the room. "He'll be in the room across the hall. Along with — you don't even know Castiel at this age, do you?"
--
Dean was a lot older than he’d remember. It took Sam a few moments to process that. He looked down at himself, at the enormous shirt that very nearly touched the floor, and the boxers at his feet. He reached down and carefully pulled the boxers up around his waist, modestly, underneath the shirt. He bunched part of the waistband up into his hand and tried to tie it at his hip, but it wasn’t really working.
He stared at it. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, and he almost didn’t want to say it out loud, but: “Is he older than he’s supposed to be, or am I… younger?”
--
Kate let her shoulders droop, another exhale followed but it got cut off when she yawned. What time was it anyway? Couldn't be their usual time for getting up, she was usually raring to go. Instead, she was going to have to pound on Cas and Dean's door and wake them up. They were not going to be happy with that, but if she didn't, they'd wondered why the hell she didn't. Catch 22.
But he had asked a question, and the truth was all she had. "You're younger." She realized she hadn't even said her name or anything, so she stuck out her hand. "I'm Kate. Older you and I — we're dating. I'm sorry. This is really weird. I'm sure it is for you too."
--
It didn’t make any sense, but then, the world was a much stranger place than he’d imagined. Sam tried to absorb this, in the way that he was still trying to process the idea of monsters. There was a stubborn and determined set to his small, round face, covering up the upset and fear that all of it was causing.
He’d be fine. As soon as he found Dean, things would start to make a little more sense.
In the meantime, he found himself staring at Kate with renewed confusion and curiosity. Dating. He probably should have guessed that, given the fact that they’d been in bed together, but he had no idea what he was supposed to say to her. He had never really even thought about girls in that way yet. Just the idea of liking them was a vague notion in his head, something he might eventually worry about or act upon, but not immediately.
“Oh,” he said, feeling incredibly stupid as the words came out of his mouth. “Yeah. … Hi.”
--
Kate slipped her feet into a pair of shoes and shuffled toward the door. She held it open, feeling bad for younger Sam and wishing there was something she could do. There was. She could get him to Dean, and Dean would be able to put him at ease. At least, if nothing else, he could convince Sam that he was Dean because they shared memories of when Sam was younger.
"Come on. We're gonna bang the hell out of Dean's door to wake him up. At least have some fun pranking him, even if you're — what? Six?"
--
“Eight,” Sam said, a little defensively. Not that those two years made a big difference. Clearly he was far smaller than he was supposed to be.
He wasn’t really in the mood for a prank, or fun in general, but he could tell she was trying to help him. At least growing up wasn’t going to be so bad, if he had a nice girlfriend. Right? And Dean… his imagination was somewhat morbidly fascinated by trying to imagine what his brother was like when he was older.
“Thanks,” he said, after he stepped awkwardly out the door. “And… sorry I woke you up.”