InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "600 years bad luck?"

Sam Winchester (demonboyking) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-04-22 22:43:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 04, location: museum, sam winchester, shannon rutherford

Day Four - Late Evening

Who: Sam Winchester & Shannon Rutherford
What: Talking
When: Late Evening
Where: The musuem
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete

Sam moved further down the museum hallway towards the dark showing rooms at the back of the building and away from the torchlight and the voices of the Doctor and his brother in the front room. It wasn't a huge building, but it was big enough that not all of it was immediately visible from the darkened hallway.

The Doctor had let him and Dean in, which was surprising considering Shannon’s being adamant that no one know where she lived. Still, Sam had gotten the impression that Shannon had a high opinion of the Doctor and from his short conversation to him regarding Dean he’d seemed genuine enough. Still, Sam had found himself wondering if he could be wrong and beginning to worry when Shannon was nowhere in sight. He’d been just about to call her name out when he caught the faint reflection of torchlight on the Starry Night replica.

Sam turned the corner as the ring of faint torchlight widened and he spotted Shannon sitting against the wall. Something about her body language instantly made him feel like he’d somehow intruded on a moment of privacy and he hesitated for a moment. He still felt in someways that he was her guest and that there was an unspoken kind of courtesy he should follow. He thought about retreating and turning back towards the others, but catching sight of the expression on Shannon's face he instead found himself stepping forward.

“Shannon?” He asked his voice low and quiet as he stepped further in the room. “Are you okay?”

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ballerinadreams
2009-04-23 01:05 am UTC (link)

There was only so much small talk to be had with the Doctor when Shannon had had other things on her mind. When she'd taken her leave, it was because she needed a minute to be alone. The minute had drawn out into a couple of hours. The Smoke Monster was enough to drive her insane, but the fact that she hadn't heard from Domeki only compounded her worries. Her thoughts had moved, at some point, to Boone and how Domeki had managed to take his place, however insensitive she felt admitting that to herself. If she lost him, too, she'd be alone all over again. The journal had only exacerbated her emotions after she'd gotten into it with that jerk Rorschach and even if she'd never admit to it, he'd done more than administer a blow to her ego. He'd hurt her feelings.

The bottle of schnapps was empty and lonesome on the floor beside her torch which was steadily losing light. The canvas was nearly burned down to nothing and she'd have to make a new one, soon. For now that was okay with her, though. She didn't mind the dark.

Her head was pounding and her stomach was restless; she should feel comfortably numb after finishing off the liquor but all she felt was alone, scared, and broken. Sitting on the floor with her head leaned back against the wall and her eyes closed, she'd drawn her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself, partially in an effort to comfort herself and partially in an effort to keep warm. Tear-tracks were dried on her sullen and drawn face; her nose was cold and stuffy. While she could feel that annoying rumble in her chest, it was more of an annoyance than anything else. The wheezing was soft and probably only audible in her own ears. It didn't hurt, yet, so she had no plan of venturing back out to the main room for her inhaler. This wasn't so much an attack as an irritation; it'd sort itself out. Shannon, in short, felt like hell.

So caught up in her own thoughts, Shannon hadn't heard anyone approaching until someone let themselves into the room and the floor creaked beneath their feet. She swallowed hard and sniffled; maybe they'd go away.

She opened her eyes and looked over at the sound of Sam's voice, only to look away again as she took a shaky breath and closed her eyes against the prickle of renewed tears. It was funny, she thought, how someone asking if she was okay could make everything unravel itself all over again.

No, she wasn't okay. She missed Sayid, she missed Boone; God help her, she missed Walt's fucking dog. And Domeki. The Smoke Monster had followed her here to this fucked up place where people were disappearing and dying and she had nowhere to go even if they ever did escape. Rorschach had said some pretty nasty things to her and as if that wasn't enough, she felt guilty as hell for distrusting Sam the way she had when he'd been the one to butt in and tell the guy off for being such a dick.

"No," she admitted after a long pause. "But whatever, how okay can anybody be in this fucking place?" she asked, her words slurring together lazily from the alcohol. With another sniffle, she opened her eyes again, wiping them with the palms of her hands. She looked back at him and tried for a smile, failing to let it reach her eyes.

"Thanks again. For sticking up for me like that. You didn't have to," she told him in a quiet voice. He probably wouldn't have, if he'd known the sort of things she'd been saying about him. She didn't deserve for Sam to care enough to interrupt the conversation on her behalf and she sure as hell didn't deserve him coming in here now to check on her. It made her feel very, very small indeed as she looked back up at him in the dim, flickering firelight of his healthy torch and her dying one.

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demonboyking
2009-04-24 12:41 am UTC (link)

Sam's mouth had curved into a small frown as he took another step into the room, his eyes adjusting to the dim torchlight and making out the shape of the schnapps bottle by Shannon's feet. The slowness of her words caused him to give a small sigh as he looked down at her tear streaked face. She looked exhausted and sad and something about seeing her like this instead of her holding her chin up the way she had for the last three days made Sam's heart sink a little.

"Yeah," he said, swallowing behind his frown as he watched her wipe her face. She smiled at him and he tried to force one in return, but it came out looking more like a grimace.

He blinked in surprise when she thanked him for sticking up for her. His shoulders rolled slightly into a small shrug as he looked down at the ground. "It's not a big deal," he said slowly. "He really had no right to say those things to you." He looked back up at her, meeting her eyes for a moment. "I mean, who is he anyway?"

He shifted slightly on his feet, wondering if he should leave her alone, since it was clear that she'd sought out solitude on her own and he was intruding on it. Still, he knew he wouldn't feel good about sitting in the other room and knowing that she was here in the semi-dark, clearly upset.

"Do you want to be alone?" He asked after a moment, his expression sympathetic as he pointed awkwardly over his shoulder as if to say he could go back the way he'd come. He wouldn't feel right about it, but he'd respect her wishes if that's what she wanted. He got the feeling, despite the fact that they'd been sharing body heat, that space was important to Shannon. In some ways she reminded him a lot of Dean.

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ballerinadreams
2009-04-24 01:25 am UTC (link)

Shannon looked down again when he said that Rorschach had no right to say the things to her that he had. At least he said them to my face, she thought miserably, because it was more than she could say for herself when Sam was concerned. "I don't know, he's new or something," she replied in a weak voice as she . Her hand moved to reach for the liquor bottle until she remembered that it was empty. The hand moved to her forehead instead.

When she'd come back here it was to be alone. The Doctor had let her go and so she'd had her alone time; now that Sam was here, she wasn't so sure she did want to be alone anymore, because being alone meant that she'd have more time to think in circles. "You can stay," she said without looking up at him. After a short pause, Shannon rubbed her hands up and down the legs of her jeans and looked up at Sam again. "Actually, would you?" she amended almost inaudibly.

...how dare she ask him to stay; to make her feel better after the conspiracy theories she'd spun about him to Domeki? About the way she'd tried to get the Doctor to comment on his view? Who the hell did she think she was, anyway? At the thought, she took her head in both hands, around her ears, and rested her forehead against her knees, because there was a painful lump in her throat and she was crying again. She felt like she was falling into a regression. She'd decided, on the Island, to start a new life...and now she was throwing it away for the old, manipulative one and it wasn't fair. Sam didn't deserve it. He hadn't asked for it; he hadn't had any idea of what he'd agreed to walk into by agreeing to move in with her. And she was a terrible person for treating him the way she was, even if he had no idea.

Her shoulders heaved as she fought not to sob and in between shaky breaths she spoke. "This place is making me crazy," she whispered. "I wanna go home." Taking in a shaky breath that would've completely given her away to anyone who knew anything. "I just wanna go home," she sobbed, closing her eyes. What Shannon didn't add, however, that she had no home. There was nowhere to go back to for her. That made her shoulders rack again and she sniffled hard, pulling her head up and wiping her eyes hastily before leaning her head back against the wall again. Shannon willed herself to calm down and then said in a low, dull voice, "I just want to wake up and not be here. Anywhere but here..."

She shook her head and opened her eyes again, staring at the endless ceiling above. "You can go, if you want to. You don't owe me anything and I wouldn't hold it against you if you walked right back out the door." Shannon tipped her head just slightly and slid her eyes over to look at him. After almost a minute of just staring at him, saying nothing, Shannon lolled her head again and lifted it away from the wall. "I'm so jealous of you, you know that?" she asked, words slurring lazily again even as the same dull tone came with her words. "You know...he might not remember you, yet, but it'll come. At least he's there. At least you're not alone," she said quietly in reference to Dean who was, probably, just in the main room only a short walk away from where she was sitting just then.

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demonboyking
2009-04-24 01:54 pm UTC (link)

Sam watched as Shannon's hand moved up to her forehead, thinking that she was coming close to maybe breaking down and he couldn't exactly blame her. If he hadn't been brought up believing the impossible for most people was only too possible for those in his family, he wasn't sure he would've handled things as well as Shannon had. She'd referred to craphole island when they'd first started talking over the journals which was why she seemed to know so much about toughing things out, but he figured with the sudden appearance of a woman's body in the woods followed by whatever thing was in there now and could be heard throughout the town she was reaching her limit.

"Sure," Sam said quietly, at her request that he stay. He, started looking for a place to put down his torch, holding it out and looking for a crack, watching her as she took her head in her hands and rested her forehead against her knees. He finally found a crack a few feet away and shoved the torch down into the floor before straightening up again. He looked over at her as she said she wanted to go home, her voice breaking. Sam felt a wave of sympathy break over him as he moved over towards her and slid down the wall until he was sitting beside her, long legs stretched out in front of him. He wanted to say something to make her feel better, but he wasn't sure there was anything to say. They'd only been there a couple of days, but he was already getting the impression that they wouldn't be going anywhere without the permission or consent of whoever or whatever had brought them there. In the meantime they were at it's whim, free to be tested, drugged, tattooed, or killed at will. He felt his building frustration surface at his inability to figure out what the pattern or common thread was between all of them as he looked over at Shannon's pale face in the torch light. He sighed, when she said she wanted to wind up anywhere but there. "I know the feeling," he said, seriously. Though the last place he wanted to wake up would be back in Cold Oak.

Sam pressed his lips together, his mouth curving into an exaggerated frown as if he were considering her offer of walking out. "I don't know," he said, his lips curving up into a weak smile. "I kind of like it back here. Quiet. I think I'll stay for a little bit, if that's okay with you." She stared at him for a long moment and he broke eye contact, glancing down at his hands.

He looked back up at her as she spoke, a look of confusion crossing his face and then fading into understanding. "This time," Sam said, slowly. "I know what it's like though, to feel alone. For a while, before I got here, I wasn't sure if Dean was alive or not. We got seperated and for a while I thought I might be on my own. Then I showed up here and it started all over again." He let out a slow breath. "I know how lucky I am."

He looked over at Shannon, his eyes studying her expression for a moment before he spoke. "I know it's not the same. But you're not alone."

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ballerinadreams
2009-04-24 07:08 pm UTC (link)

Sam said that he would stay and she could hear him moving around the room; she had to assume he was looking for a place to put down his torch. A moment later, she could feel him sit down beside her. His empathy was appreciated, although she didn't say so, still too spent from crying to voice it at the moment.

When she offered Sam an out and he didn't take it, telling her he'd like to stay if it was all right with her, her brow furrowed slightly. Shannon couldn't understand anyone wanting to be around her right now; she was drunk and she was crying. But, when he looked away, breaking their eye contact, she thought back on what Dean had said. "I think Sam would do anything for you." She studied Sam's profile in the firelight and wet her lips just before he looked up again.

"Yeah, but the difference is," Shannon said in a weak voice as she looked away again, "you might not have known if he was alive..." She paused and closed her eyes, running her hands over her face and back into her hair, dropping her head back against the wall again with a dull thump. "But I know my brother's dead. I buried my brother on that Island. I watched them lower him in and hand bury him four feet under the sand. Boone's never coming back. It's different," she said in a soft, hollow voice.

Sniffling again, Shannon dropped her hands from her head and wrapped her arms around her knees again. "I haven't even really had time to process it, you know?" she asked, not expecting an answer. "Jesus, I mean, it's been a week. Seven nights ago, Boone was bringing me dinner and keeping me warm at night. And then...he was gone. I didn't even get to say goodbye or apologize for a million things he deserved apologies for..." her voice trailed off and she looked back at Sam as he spoke.

Giving him a small smile, Shannon looked down. "It's not the same, no," she agreed quietly. Moving just slightly, Shannon first leaned against Sam and then shifted his arm so that it was around her shoulders. Resting her head on his shoulder, she wrapped him in a hug and shifted closer to him, closing her eyes, wetting his shirt with a few rogue tears that slipped out. She felt warm and safe there; if he wanted her to move, he was going to have to say so, because maybe if she could stay like this forever, nothing bad would happen to her here. After a short pause, she finished her previous statement. "But thank you."

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demonboyking
2009-04-26 02:08 am UTC (link)

Shannon's words hit something deep inside Sam as she pointed out how it was different between him losing Dean and her losing Boone. He could remember only too well the anguish of thinking that Dean was going to die and the panic that had driven him to seek out Roy LeGrange to heal him. Or what it had felt like to watch his brother coding and refusing to accept that that was it. Refusing to believe that he'd never be able to speak to Dean again. The memory felt like a punch to the gut and for a moment Sam felt unable to speak.

The realization that Shannon had just buried her brother only a week ago softened Sam's expression even more and he swallowed a small lump that was suddenly in his throat as she voiced her regrets. "Sometimes you don't get the chance," Sam said, his voice low as he lowered his gaze back down to his hands. There were so many things that he'd wished he'd said and hadn't said to his dad before he'd died. He still wished he could say them.

Shannon moved closer to him, picking up his arm and putting it around her shoulders. He squeezed her arm lightly as she rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him. He moved his free arm around her, thinking it was odd at how familiar the gesture had gotten. Lying close together at night in order to share body heat had been awkward the first night, but the truth was, Sam kind of enjoyed the feeling of wrapping his arms around someone again. It wasn't the same as falling asleep with Jess after a long night of studying, but sometimes when he first woke up he'd be confused about where he was and Shannon's blonde hair sometimes got mixed up with Jess's in his mind.

Sam's hand rubbed Shannon's arm slowly as she shut her eyes. He stared at the painting against the far wall, watching the torchlight flicker over it. "You're welcome," he said softly after a moment, looking back down at her and feeling a little weird about being thanked. He wanted to tell her it was nothing. It was nothing, it wasn't like he was bringing Boone back or taking away any of the hurt that had come from it. But somehow saying it was nothing sounded even more inappropriate than your welcome.

He heard a laugh come from the other room and he held his breath for a moment, really not wanting Dean or the Doctor to interrupt their moment. The last thing Shannon needed right now was someone else finding her like this. He relaxed a little when he didn't hear any approaching footsteps. False alarm.

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ballerinadreams
2009-04-26 02:37 am UTC (link)

Sometimes you didn't get a chance to say the things you needed to say before it was too late, Sam had said. He wasn't wrong. Shannon had been at school when her mother had died; fucking finger-painting. She still couldn't stand paint of any kind to this day because of it. How her ballet remained unmarred by the fact that she'd been teaching a beginner's class when her father had been in the accident that had taken his life still bewildered her when she thought about it. She supposed it was because she was older and able to separate one thing from the other. Both of her parents had died alone and Shannon hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to either of them. Boone only compounded that pain.

She wondered to herself if maybe she was a curse. If maybe Domeki or Sam or Dean or the Doctor would be next to die alone just because she cared about them. The thought made her hiccup against a sob and the tears renewed themselves, flowing freely as she felt Sam's hand rubbing her arm in a consoling gesture. Sayid had done that, too, after Boone's crude funeral. Maybe it was better for him that she was here, because it'd mean Sayid would be safe without her around.

The walls that Shannon usually so carefully constructed around herself had crumbled when Sam had asked if she was okay upon entering the room and she was too emotionally drained to put them up again. She'd probably regret that in the morning.

Someone - either the Doctor or Dean, she supposed, but couldn't place it - laughed in the main room and Shannon felt Sam stiffen just slightly. It was subtle, but she felt it. He relaxed a moment after and she wondered if he was afraid someone else would come back to the room. Was that tiny reflexive stiffening his way of preparing should he have to ward someone off to keep her safe from having to explain the sudden downturn in her mood? Shannon burrowed herself closer against him; she appreciated that, if that was what it was.

When she'd calmed a little more, Shannon lifted her head to look at Sam. She wondered if he'd still be sitting here if he'd known what she'd said to Domeki about him. If he'd known the conversation she'd had with Sarah before that, or the one with the Doctor just a couple of hours ago. Probably not.

"I'm sorry that you know how I feel," she said softly. Something about the way he'd said what he'd said about not always getting a chance to say goodbye told her that he knew loss. Maybe not his brother, but someone. Shannon had to suppress the overwhelming and random urge to kiss him, because not only was it beyond inappropriate; she'd spent the entire afternoon flirting with his older brother. Sam was clearly uninterested, anyway, if she was to judge by the awkwardness with which he held himself that first night and at a few random moments since then. Where the urge came from, she didn't know, but it faded almost as fast as it had cropped up. She supposed it was probably because he was there and no other real reason.

For lack of anything else to say, as well as the lack of desire to say anything even if she had, Shannon gave Sam a tiny ghost of a smile that didn't reach her eyes before she laid her head back down against him, her face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Maybe if she could stay like this - and not start crying again - he'd let her fall asleep there, so she didn't have to move. The fact was, Shannon didn't much feel like moving; she wasn't in the mood to do much of anything other than mope, quite frankly. So, she mentally prepared herself for Sam extracting himself from the situation and heading back out to the Doctor and Dean. He was bound to, eventually; Shannon wasn't lucky enough for him to stick around when he had no real reason to, save a potential sense of unnecessary obligation to her.

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demonboyking
2009-04-26 05:55 am UTC (link)

"Me too," Sam said, his eyes locking with hers for a moment before he looked away. He sighed, aware of her head rising slightly with his chest. "My dad and I...we butted heads a lot. We're Winchesters, being stubborn is kind of in our DNA." He forced a humorless smile, though it faded fast enough. "I wasn't exactly the best son," Sam said slowly, feeling guilt settling in his stomach. "I said a lot of really terrible things to him before he died. And I never got the chance to take them back. Or say I was sorry." Though now of course there were a lot of other things Sam wanted to say to John. Like when exactly he'd decided Sam might become something to be destroyed if they couldn't protect him and if or when he'd ever intended on telling Sam what he was.

He shut his eyes shut for a moment, trying to force his deepest fears about himself and what he was capable of out of his mind. Shannon shifted again, her nose tickling his neck. He opened his eyes and looked down at her, his arm tightening around her slightly. The thought that Dean didn't know the order that John had issued before his death hit Sam and his eyes snapped open and moved towards the open doorway, his ears straining for the familiar sound of his brother's voice. In fact, Dean didn't yet know that John was dead, or that he'd made a deal in order to keep Dean alive, just the way Dean had turned around and made a deal for Sam. He'd tried to fill Dean in earlier while they'd been out, but it'd proven to be too hard of a task. He couldn't help but think that some ignorance on his brother's part really was -- well, if not bliss, much less painful. At least for now he wanted Dean to not have to deal with everything that had happened.

He cleared his throat.

"Dean, doesn't know about dad," he said quietly, his hand stilling for a moment on her arm. "Not yet, anyway. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't say anything."

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ballerinadreams
2009-04-26 03:56 pm UTC (link)

Sam said that he and his dad and butted heads; he said he hadn't been the best son and that he'd said a lot of things he wished he could've taken back. "Boone wasn't really my brother," she said softly, looking away from him. "He was my step brother. His mom married my dad when I was, like, eight or something." She paused, wondering if maybe it was too much to share, but, she went on. "He was in love with me," she said with a humorless laugh to rival Sam's smile. "I used that against him a lot. A lot. I used it to..." Shannon's voice trailed off and she shook her head. No, telling Sam that she used Boone's affection for money felt like too much. He'd think she was a horrible person - not that she wasn't, but still - and he'd probably never talk to her again.

She felt him pull her closer when she'd nuzzled against his neck and it felt good. Like he cared. Like he wanted her there. One of Shannon's hands dropped away from his side and blindly searched for his own. When she found it, she laced her fingers with his and rubbed her thumb absently up and down against his. They had matching broken hearts. Two grieving people sharing their pain and using one another's ears as a crutch for their mourning. For a second, when she closed her eyes, she felt Boone's arms around her and his hand gently rubbing her arm at her father's funeral. "We're kind of like orphans..." she said with a sad sort of thoughtfulness in her voice. "God, what a shitty thing to have in common," she murmured against his neck.

When Sam cleared his throat, Shannon looked up again. Her eyes widened just slightly and only briefly when he told her that Dean didn't know about their father being dead. That was a hell of a secret to tell someone he'd only met a few days previously. She felt his hand stop moving up and down on her arm and he asked her not to say anything. Locking her eyes on his, Shannon nodded solemnly. "I won't tell," she agreed. "Don't say anything about Boone to anybody..." she added pathetically, furrowing her brow slightly. "It's not something I'm proud of and it's not something I really care to share."

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demonboyking
2009-04-27 10:33 pm UTC (link)

Sam listened to Shannon talk about her brother, his brow furrowing slightly when she said he was in love with her and that she'd used it against him. He watched her shake her head and he frowned a little in sympathy. Whatever she'd done, she obviously felt bad about it. Just as bad as he felt about trying to pick a fight with his dad in his final moments with him or blaming him for everything when he was younger. It was only after he was gone, after he saved Dean the only way he could, that Sam had realized how much John Winchester had loved his sons and how much Sam had loved him in return. It hadn't been easy to turn his back on his family, but he'd managed because somewhere at the back of his mind - even though he knew a million things could go wrong - he kind of believed that they were invincible. That they'd always be there. He'd been wrong.

He felt Shannon's hand seek out his own and felt her fingers intertwine with his. He squeezed her hand lightly, not really wanting to ruin the moment by saying anything. It was nice to know that she understood even if she didn't know all the specifics, just like he understood her. Or thought he did. He leaned his head back against the wall when she said they were like orphans, feeling the warm tickle of her breath against his neck.

He'd wondered if he'd made a mistake when she'd looked surprised. Not that he thought she'd go and tell Dean, but that she'd judge him for keeping something so big from his brother. He wondered if he was making a mistake. He knew that Dean would want to know that their father was dead. More than that he'd demand to know how it happened and Sam didn't think he'd have it in him to lie to him. At least not about that. Telling anything but the truth messed with his dad's memory. More than that, Sam couldn't even think about losing Dean to grief again. He knew how he'd react. He knew that he'd pull away even more and since he hadn't had a year to deal with the loss the way Sam had he'd go off the deep end. At this point, he wasn't even sure if he trusted Sam enough to let him pull him back. Shannon nodded and Sam let out a small breath of relief. "Thanks," he said quietly.

"I won't say anything," he promised. "It's no one's business but you're own." Besides he was the last person to be pointing out other people's mistakes. He made so many of his own, and he knew better than anyone that there was no worse punishment than the feeling of regret and guilt that settled on your shoulders and held you down. It never really let up, no matter how much time passed.

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ballerinadreams
2009-04-27 11:08 pm UTC (link)

It was with a sad smile that Shannon nodded in response to Sam's gratitude that she'd agreed not to tell Dean what Sam had told her. It wasn't her place, even if she wanted to. And when Sam promised not to tell her secret, in return, Shannon gave him a small, grateful smile before resting her head back on his shoulder, closing her eyes again as he forehead brushed against his neck. "Thank you," she whispered.

For a moment, Shannon just sat there, one arm around Sam's back and the other holding his hand in his lap, resuming the slow monotonous movement of her thumb against his. This day had been the worst one so far. Luck was moving further away from her with every passing hour, it seemed; it seemed pretty likely to her that if her luck continued, she'd wake up in the woods tied to a complete stranger by morning. With that thought, she pressed herself against Sam a little closer.

"Don't let them take me tonight, okay?" she asked softly without moving to look up at him. "Today's been rough enough as it is. The monster in the woods...the smoke monster following me here and making all that horrible noise..." she let her voice trail off. She didn't add the compounded emotional stress of being unable to connect with Domeki in the journals. Shannon set her jaw against the urge to start crying again. She'd done enough of that and Sam shouldn't have to pick up the pieces; that was asking too much. He kept her warm at night and he'd listened to her just then. There was no reason for him to have to do anything more and she wasn't going to ask it of him.

After a long pause, Shannon sighed. "You know what the worst part of this whole stupid thing is? Even if we get out of here...I don't have anywhere to go. I can't go home without Boone. Sabrina would kill me. This fucked up, horrible place is the closest thing to home I have. It's kind of disgusting, isn't it?" she mused grimly.

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demonboyking
2009-04-29 12:30 am UTC (link)

They sat in silence for a long while, Sam listening for the sound of the others' voices from the other room. Shannon's thumb made warm circles on his hand and he found himself oddly calmed by the movement. He was aware of Shannon pressing herself a little closer and his arm around her tightened briefly and protectively, recognizing the movement as one needing recognition.

"They won't if I can help it," Sam said, seriously. His brow furrowed slightly as he thought over her words. "Smoke monster?" he asked, his curiousity awakened despite the fact that she'd trailed off at the mention of it. He tried to think of anything he knew that could be called a smoke monster and came up empty.

"Sabrina?" Sam asked, trying to place the new name. Whoever it was, they didn't sound very charitible towards Shannon. He was quiet for a moment, thinking about her situation. He knew what it was like not to have a home. "If you could go anywhere, where would you go?" He asked, slowly. "I mean, if home could be anywhere. With anyone."

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ballerinadreams
2009-04-29 12:52 am UTC (link)

When Sam's arm tightened around her, Shannon smiled a little sadly to herself and relaxed against him. She was stupid to have mistrusted him. That was pretty clear, now. If she wasn't already so raw emotionally, she'd have spared another guilty thought about it, but instead, she just burrowed herself closer against him and let herself start to drift.

One thing occurred to her that she'd never really thought she'd be able to feel in Sam's presence. Pressed up against him with her arm around her and holding his hand, Shannon felt really and truly safe for the first time since that stupid plane crashed on the Island. It was an enormous weight off her chest to finally feel that way again. She owed Sam big for this one and she wouldn't forget it.

Sam said he wouldn't let them take her if he could help it. The tone in his voice spoke volumes even if the words offered a buffer zone against any blame if he failed. Shannon tried not to think about that. It helped that she still maintained that Sam must've fallen asleep that first night without realizing it. There was nothing more than a thank you to be said, so rather than repeating herself, Shannon gave his hand a gentle squeeze in hopes that that would relay the sentiment for her.

Shannon nodded against his neck and shoulder. "Mmhmm, that thing making all the noise and knocking down the trees in the forest," she yawned. "It's from the Island." She was drifting, now, even as she tried to fight it. Maybe Sam wanted to sleep first shift tonight. If he did, he should be allowed; he'd more than earned it, she thought. "Boone's mother," she clarified when he asked about Sabrina. "She hates me anyway; Boone being dead would just make it worse because it was my fault," she admitted, too sleepy to have anything other than exhaustion in her voice even if there was still that hollow feeling of guilt settling in her stomach as she said it.

The question Sam asked next opened a virtual Pandora's box in Shannon's mind. Anywhere, really, that she could settle and call home without feeling unwelcome, unwanted, or unhappy. She yawned again, talking through it. "With Sayid...in a beach house in Maui," she answered with a small laugh. "Although, realistically...I'll never see him again. The Doctor said he doesn't have a home, either, really...because he travels so much. If we ever get out of here, maybe I'll ask him if I can come until I figure something out. I don't know. I don't think we're going anywhere, so I feel like there's no reason to get my hopes up," she admitted sadly.

Another yawn escaped her and she let go of Sam's hand only long enough to reach up and wipe her eyes of the reflexive tears that sprang from so many successive yawns. She returned her hand to his lap, slipping it into his own hand again. "I'm sorry...I'm so tired..." she admitted softly. "But I'm scared to go to sleep..."

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demonboyking
2009-04-29 10:41 pm UTC (link)

Shannon nodded against his shoulder, the slow movement of her face against his shirt building a little bit of warmth. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice and figured that the tears on top of the schnapps probably wouldn't help when it came to trying to stay awake. Still, there was a part of him, despite how selfish it was, that kind of wanted her to stay awake and talking to him. It'd felt good to share some of his guilt with someone just as guilty, not to mention this was the first genuine conversation he'd had with someone in a really long time. Being on the road all the time didn't exactly foster meaningful relationships. It was nice.

He wanted to ask her how Boone's death was her fault, but knew that if she'd wanted to tell him she would've already. He wondered if it really was her fault or if she was just taking on the blame. It didn't really matter, if she wasn't ready to let go of that blame it might as well have been her fault. Despite the fact that Dean had been telling him for close to two years that Jess's death wasn't his fault he still felt like it was. If he'd never met her, she'd be alive and happy somewhere. The thought sent a dull pain through his chest and he let a breath out slowly.

"Sayid," he asked, thinking he'd heard something in the way she'd said the name. Maui seemed like an explanation in itself. He'd never been there but the idea of white beaches, palm trees and blue waters seemed soothing somehow in the darkness of the museum. Though part of him was surprised that she'd pick something so close to the island she'd been stuck on. Though he'd never really been to Maui so maybe they weren't alike at all. "Dean and I don't really have a home either," Sam said, looking at the painting across from them. "We're always moving from place to place. It never really ends." He paused when she said that she didn't really think they were going anywhere. He was beginning to get the same impression, but he'd failed to say it out loud yet. Hearing it coming from Shannon didn't make him feel any better. "I'm not sure either," he said quietly.

"You should get some rest," Sam said, looking down at her sympathetically. "I'll take first watch." He squeezed her hand. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

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ballerinadreams
2009-04-30 02:14 am UTC (link)

As soon as Shannon had offered up her opinion that Boone's death had ultimately, if not directly, been her fault, she'd regretted it. The reflexive next line of conversation would be Sam asking why she thought that and when she said, if she knew anything about anything, his reflexive response would be all motivational speaker-esque, telling her how it wasn't her fault at all. That they'd just been at the wrong place at the wrong time and neither she nor Boone had deserved to crash on that Island. She was pleasantly surprised and very much relieved when the question never came.

Sayid's name, however, was repeated in question form and Shannon yawned again, a tiny smile slid over her lips. "Mmhmm, I met him on the Island. He was the only good thing about that place," she said. He made me feel safe. And, I think he loved me, went unsaid, because she didn't want to bore Sam with details that were only special to her.

Shannon lifted her head to look at Sam briefly when he said that he and Dean didn't have a home, either. Yeah, he had said that first night that he and his brother traveled a lot via road trips, but he hadn't really mentioned that. "I'm sorry," was all she could offer in response, because she somehow felt that asking "why?" would be unwelcome to him. There was no real reason for her to feel that way; she just did. Maybe Sam had gotten the same feeling when she'd said Boone's death was her fault. He'd done her the favor of not asking and she was going to return it in the same fashion. When he agreed that he wasn't sure they were getting out of there anytime soon, either, Shannon's heart sank, and with it, her head as she rested it against Sam's shoulder again, frowning. He'd been so sure they were leaving before...and suddenly he wasn't anymore. A piece of her hope died with his words.

"Are you sure?" Shannon asked and felt badly that as she asked it, she yawned once again. She smiled weakly at the feel of Sam giving her hand a squeeze and opened her mouth to offer herself for first shift when he spoke again. He wasn't going to let anything happen to her. The words in her ears gave way to a fluttering in her stomach and she looked back up at him again. "Thank you," she said softly, not taking her eyes off his; wanting him to see the sincerity in her gratefulness.

The whole of their conversation tonight when in conjunction with the Doctor's unwillingness to judge and Domeki's decision to wait and make his own judgment after he'd met Sam had shattered the mistrust she held against Sam. And he was holding her, trying to make her feel better, and telling her that he was going to protect her. Call it damsel in distress syndrome, but Shannon had done a complete 180 in her opinion of Sam. In fact...when she thought about it for a second as she searched his eyes for something unknown, Shannon realized something that took her by surprise. Shannon had a crush on the boy.

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demonboyking
2009-05-01 04:38 pm UTC (link)

Sam watched the small smile slide over her lips when he asked her about Sayid. He wondered if he was the best thing about this place, but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. Not only was it incredibly arrogant it was absurd. There was no good thing about this place. It was just fear and the unknown and trying to operate in survival mode.

Me looked down at her when she said she was sorry that he and Dean didn't have a home. He gave her a smile and shrugged like it wasn't really a big deal. It shouldn't be. They'd moved around so much growing up that they'd never had one place to call their own. The closest thing he'd ever had was the apartment with Jess in Stanford and that was a place that he'd never be able to go back to.

"I'm sure," he said, giving her a nod and a smile when she yawned again. He clamped his mouth down, trying to stifle a yawn of his own. Probably reflex. He'd never been able to figure out why yawns seemed to be contagious. Her expression seemed to shift just a little as she looked back up at him and there was an earnestness in her expression that made him feel like she wasn't just looking at him, she was seeing right into him.

"No problem," Sam said, feeling suddenly more aware of her warmth against his shoulder. He'd said he wouldn't let anything happen to her out of reflex. He'd said it to other people before, working jobs with Dean, but somehow it was different with Shannon. He felt the importance of keeping that promise in the pit of his stomach as he met her eyes. "That's what I'm here for."

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ballerinadreams
2009-05-01 05:46 pm UTC (link)

The confidence in Sam's voice when he said that keeping her safe was what he was there for made Shannon's stomach flip-flop pleasantly, but she didn't let her expression betray it. For whatever reason, it seemed like Sam actually cared about her already. She might not understand it, but she certainly wasn't going to complain or fight it.

Giving him a tiny smile, she kissed his cheek chastely and then rested her head on his shoulder again, snuggling up closer to him as another yawn overcame her. She was tired and he had said he was sure that he would take the first shift. "You're the best, Sam," she said softly, closing her eyes again.

In spite of the alcoholic haze muddling her brain and the million lines of thought floating through it just then, Shannon was exhausted and Sam was warm and comforting. For all of that, it didn't take Shannon long, sitting there in the protective envelope of his arms, to drift off to sleep.

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