winchester, sam. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ex_demonbloo908) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} wariscoming,@ 2010-09-21 16:32:00 |
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WHAT: Being abducted by your friends is not fun.
WHEN: Late afternoon.
WHERE: The room Sam and Chuck are trapped in.
RATING: PG-13.
There were three things that Sam Winchester happened to be absolutely certain of: one, demons generally sucked. Two, rock salt was the one tool that a person should always have handy. As for number three? Sam had very little doubt - especially at this point - that Jo Harvelle had completely lost her mind. No matter how hard Sam had tried, he couldn't make Jo see reason. She believed him to be a demon, in spite of the fact that she had an angel, several tests through rock salt and holy water, and his own word screaming that he was far from one. No matter what, Jo only seemed capable of seeing black eyes. It was because of that - and a mistake of judgment on his part - that Sam was here right now. Tied up, gagged, and dropped smack in the middle of a Devil's Trap, of all things. Sam shouldn't have been surprised by it. Jo did think he was a demon. Yet being here, finding himself being treated like any other monster that hunters chased after? It struck Sam harder on the inside than he cared to admit, even to himself. He wasn't the only guest within Jo's territory that was being treated like one of the bad guys either. No, as soon as Sam had been thrown into the trap, he had noticed that he wasn't the only one occupying it. Which meant that his suspicions had been correct all along: Chuck had been taken in by Jo. Just not so much in the kind of way that Sam would have expected of a friend.
She's not herself, Sam thought firmly, struggling against the ropes at his wrist. That had to be true. Jo was smarter than this. She should have picked up on how severely screwed up everything that was going on was by now. Something was messing with her head. And once Sam found out what that was...
He twisted against his ropes harder. Dammit. They were tight. Scowling against his gag, Sam glared down at his restraints, forcing that same look across the trap to his fellow partner in imprisonment. Poor Chuck. How long had he been trapped in here for? Sam stared at him uncertainly for a brief moment, but the look in his eyes was quick to jump back to that anger again. Yeah, Sam was annoyed. Very annoyed. Neither of them should have been locked up like this. It was wrong, it was inconvenient, and it was insulting. They had to figure a way out. Between Chuck and himself, they could (hopefully?) muster up some way out of this mess. Except, oh yeah. They couldn't talk with their mouths gagged up. Which meant that the actual communication required to plan outside of sign language of the face was out of the question. Nostrils flaring, Sam tightened his jaw and tried not to shoot any murderous looks in Chuck's direction. He was a prophet, right? How in the hell had he not seen this coming?