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Tweak says, "do do do do do BANANA PHONE"

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
2009-04-26 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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