Who: Sam & Veronica What: talking about this When: Thursday night [backdated] Where: Sam (& Dean's) unit Rating: pg-13 ish? emotions and potential mention of violence.
The ink on Sam's wrist was fresh, and the skin stung. In small letters it said: tesseract, and below that, 12-16-2012. The pain reminded him vaguely of what he'd seen in his future, when he pressed his palm to get rid of his delusions, to remind himself that he was real and no longer in the pit with Lucifer. His palm had hurt sympathetically for a while after watching that, and the tattoo wasn't too dissimilar in purpose. It served to remind him of where he was and why (or rather, it was intended to remind him of where he'd been if he were to go back and lose his memory of it), and there was something he could appreciate about the pain of a needle digging into his skin to mark it. Not that it had hurt much, but considering he'd gone without significant injury or harm for just over a month now, he was more aware of it. He was used to aching all over, carrying on by way of adrenaline, and somehow this reminder of the alternate reality had also managed to remind him of that, too.
Ever since talking to Wesley about hunting and keeping in shape in case the vampires turned on them, he'd turned off a lot of his emotions, reverting back to hunting mode. Veronica and Jo had still gotten through to him, but that had almost made him feel worse; like he was fooling them into thinking he was lighthearted and fuzzy all the time. Well, he wasn't fooling Jo-- she'd seen him hunt, and she'd seen him possessed-- but as they'd discussed, he didn't think Veronica really understood what either of them were capable of, when it came to hunting.
And this was the most honest he'd ever been with someone he cared about. He'd told Veronica about the demon blood inside him (though he'd not mentioned drinking it), about being Lucifer's vessel, but knew that didn't even begin to cover it. If he was going to end up fighting at some point, he didn't want her to be taken by surprise when she saw how brutally violent he could be. He'd seen himself frighten someone like that on screen, someone who'd liked him. Better that he explain it, since it was hardly a secret here anyway, and give her the chance to step back before she was legitimately scared of him.
But he shouldn't have done it via text message. He had known that as he was doing it, but he was afraid of how she would look at him once he explained; even if she still cared about him, he still had half a feeling that she wasn't ever going to look at him the same way again. And that was alright. He would be okay, either way; he wasn't depending on her to believe in him, at least not in the same way he depended on his brother, or Cas, or Jo. It would be nice if she still did, even if he thought it was unlikely.
Maybe Jo was right, and he was underestimating her. Either way, he would be fine.
He returned to the tower, to his room, and sat down on the couch. Where Dean was, he didn't know-- probably out drinking or eating-- but having his brother return and accidentally overhear this conversation was preferable to anyone else. So he took out his phone and texted Veronica to let her know he was back, and then ran his hands tiredly over his face. Even if this went well, it probably wasn't going to be pleasant.