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Tweak says, "haha ur mom did it"

Sam Winchester (demonboyking) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-09-09 00:02:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 22, location: theatre, sam winchester, selene

Day 22, Morning
Who: Sam Winchester and Selene
What: Getting down to business
Where: Near the theatre
When: Day 22; 9:00 AM
Rating: Definite R
Status: Active

It was almost funny how there was no one else at Vas more likely to know exactly how Sam felt right at that moment than Shannon and how it was because of that very reason that he was unable to stay near her. She'd had to relive her brother's death and Sam had been faced with his brother's remains. It wasn't enough that they'd killed him, they'd also had to make him a mockery of everything he'd stood for in life. Even now the thought of Dean's broken neck and the shell of him that had come after Sam the day before made his stomach turn. If he hadn't already emptied what little contents that had been in his stomach shortly after having to fight the zombie version of Dean for his life he was sure he would've done it again. Neither he or Shannon wanted to talk about their dead brothers and all that was left was a silence that made it hard to concentrate. Which was why he'd scribbled her a note to say he'd be back and set out before she'd woken up. He felt guilty about it, but he couldn't handle the sympathy in her eyes or knowing that she wouldn't push too hard because he'd have every right to push back. It was a shitty situation, but he might as well take advantage of it. Neither of them were ready to talk about what had happened and Sam didn't know if he ever would be. Twice Dean had almost died on him and twice they'd found a way around it. There'd been casualties, there had been his dad's sacrifice but in the end Dean had still been there and somehow Sam had known that everything was going to be alright as long as he still had Dean.

Dean had made the deal to bring Sam back and the thought that his brother's time would be up in a year had felt to Sam that someone had cut him open and gutted him. Here though…here this Dean hadn't even made any deal. Here Sam had gotten three weeks. Three goddamn weeks of fighting and sidestepping and trying to get to know each other all over again. Three weeks of trying to do what it took to survive and getting so wrapped up in other things and people that they'd barely been brothers at all. He couldn't even remember the last thing he'd said to him. They'd gone through the tunnels with the Doctor, looking for the others and emerged only to find that everyone on the screens had died and Sam had drifted off to be by himself to grieve for Shannon. He'd always thought that if something ever happened to Dean he'd know it. He'd feel it somehow, someway… but the body that had come after him hadn't been fresh. His brother could've been dead for days and Sam hadn't had any idea. That was what hurt the most. The fact that deep down Sam had thought that if anyone could handle themselves, if anyone could take care of things it was Dean. He hadn't been acting like himself, but it had never occurred to Sam that he'd be vulnerable. Despite the fact that they'd faced their own morality on a fairly regular basis it had never really occurred to Sam that he could die until he had. And it had never occurred to him that Dean could die until he'd been staring what was left of him in the eye and realized that his brother was gone and he wasn't coming back.

The torch made from oil painting scraps flickered in the drizzle as Sam made his way towards the theatre. He held the torch up with one hand and one of the axes from the pharmacy in the other. He was looking for a distraction, hopefully in the form of a fight. He would take no pleasure in cutting off the head of someone who had once been a resident of Vas but he wasn't going to sit still while there was still a threat to the people he cared about.

Protect the others. It was what Dean would've wanted him to do. It was what his dad would've wanted him to do. And seeing how he was now the only Winchester left…someone had to carry on the family business.

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bulletsandblood
2009-09-09 07:45 am UTC (link)

Things had taken quite a turn for the vampire. In the span of little more than a day she had finally gotten fresh blood in her system and she was able to put her centuries of training and experience to use to kill something. When one got down to it, it was what she was. More than a vampire, more than an immortal, more than anything else she was a hunter, a killer. No amount of confusion or compassion or friendship or time itself could take away those instincts. They might have an effect on what she chose to go after or how she used her skills, but nothing could change the foundation that had been built over six centuries.

When all the talk of zombies turned from mere talk to fact Selene shifted into hunter mode. She wanted to make the rounds through the town and take them all out, before others could be infected. So she only had three shells left. There were other weapons to be found in the town and if nothing else? She would use her hands. Whatever would get the job done. However, she hadn't counted on a scared werewolf, or budding concern for her new human friend. She allowed herself to be detained the remainder of the day and even rested for a few hours, but come morning she was too restless to linger. Zombies aside, the fresh blood had her feeling more invigorated than she had in days. It was somewhat curious, as human blood had never made her feel quite this way to her knowledge, and synthetic blood certainly hadn't. Though for all she knew the added sustenance had little to do with Gambit's mutant blood and more to do with what Alexander Corvinus' blood had done to her barely a week ago. Either way her senses were sharp to the point of being bothersome and Selene woke up itching to kill that which needed killing. If other people had attachment to who the zombies used to be, fine, she wouldn't take that away from them. But she would do what they couldn't because she was nothing if not practical when it came to life and death. People could get upset with her if they wished, but she was doing them a favor whether they wanted to see it that way or not.

The drizzle bothered Selene little, and only because it and the fog dampened the smell of the undead. It seemed everywhere or nowhere and that made it near impossible to pick up a trail unless she was quite near to one of the creatures. Instead she was relying on her other senses to clue her in, including her vision. While it wasn't crystal clear in the dark, she could see surprisingly well and had no need for artificial light. Despite that, it was her nose that picked up on another presence first. That distinct smell of something burning, and beneath it, blood. Life.

Brown eyes narrowed and she shifted the shotgun on her shoulder as she immediately walked that way. So, not a zombie. But was it someone looking to get rid of the zombies or just to get themselves into trouble? Because she really didn't want to rescue anyone if she didn't have to. It wasn't long before she made out the torch light through the fog and she glanced around, checking for zombies. She wasn't sure if the creatures could see, and she certainly hoped they couldn't as there was no need to make it easier for them to find prey. Although... perhaps she could use whomever it was as bait. A mortal surely smelled more alive to a zombie than she did, and if she did it was only because she had fed within the last 48 hours. Selene didn't bother to be any quieter about her approach than she would be normally, but she was smart enough not to call out and draw extra attention to herself.

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demonboyking
2009-09-10 07:22 am UTC (link)

Sam didn't really care if the torch made him a moving target for the zombies, in fact he wasn't entirely sure that he wasn't hoping that it did. Easier to find them if they came looking for him. He wondered who else was wearing the face of someone he'd met or spoken with at Vas. How many of the bodies he'd buried were walking around now?

He stilled at the sound of approaching footsteps. They sounded too fast and sure to be that of one of the zombies, but for all he know they'd gotten faster and smarter. He gripped the axe tighter as he raised his torch, trying to get a widen circumference of light.

"Who's there?" He demanded, his jaw pulled tight.