ataraxion | [voice.] + [possible offline.]

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[voice.] + [possible offline.]

[Sam lasted approximately 3.8 days resting in a bed after getting sort of kind of stabbed in the back (well, at home, then it sort of... followed him here). He's mostly healed thanks to the powers that be and Castiel, but he's still slow on his feet, all sore and stitched up and sort of exhausted from losing most of the blood in his body (or whatever Dean would claim he lost; he thinks it's not that bad anymore, so whatever). He sort of rests himself in the garden with his network comm, wincing a little to get comfortable against some old gnarled tree trunk.

He wants to get his mind off home. Dad's dead — dead dead, not coming back, no hope of fixing that — and he's got demon blood pumping inside his veins, and Ava and Andy and so many other kids are dead by now... And Sam is pretty sure he's dying back home, regardless of how his conversation with his brother goes. Basically, life sucks, it's a shitfest, and we're all gonna die eventually. But hey, he tries to keep the topic light and his faith a little high.]

Well, everyone from the bridge — I'm glad you're all okay. That was a terrible idea, but. I'm glad anyway. [And he is. His voice is light when he says that.] We'd rather want you guys all alive and kicking, y'know, even if I get why you guys took that risk. I mean, where I'm from? That sort of thing is something I deal with a lot, so... I'm not about to wag any fingers. But did anything in particular happen in there that would be good to note for the future? I know everyone just about tore their own arms off trying to get the doors to open from the outside; how was the inside, though? Any sort of visions, ill omens? Possibly changes in the setting that might imply something spiritual or omnipresent there with you? There were a few distorted voice and video posts, and I'm sure it's been brought up, but humor me.

[It's important to note these kinds of things.]

The ship seems to be warping itself a lot lately, so I figured best to ask. Like — the numbers. I don't know the implication or importance of them, but I know some of you've been talking about them... and the masks are a new thing for me, technically. I wasn't around for that, so I guess there's none to worry about for the newer arrivals, but I've heard it wasn't exactly rainbows and candy canes, though.

The mirrors were freaking out the last time I checked, the previous jump; on the bright side, I'm 100% sure that it's not Bloody Mary. Already had a hell of a time dealing with that particular ghost. [but we did it cuz winchesters. savin ppl. hunting thangs. family bidness. He shrugs. Where was he going with this before he got distracted by old cases? He must be getting too used to this place if he's okay with chatting about them to begin with. Then again, nothing wrong with admitting you deal with vengeful spirits on occasion in a place full of supernatural issues. It's when you admit you kill vamps and werewolves on a ship full of them that's a problem.... Anyway...] I don't know. It just seems like little things are building up. We're getting more information, sometimes literally through someone else's point of view in memories - but I get the feeling it's not gonna continue on like this without something big happening.

[For anyone interested in Offline. threads, Sam will be resting in the gardens; he's been sleeping a little more until he feels more up to speed, or will otherwise be combing his father's journal and some of the books he'd received from home to see if there's anything on 'haunted mirrors'. Just because they dealt with Bloody Mary doesn't mean this is the same kind of application of lore. He'll probably just end up nodding off here for a while until he's energized enough to drag himself back to his room. Maaaaybe he should be resting there. Whatever, hunter thug, don't need no sleep.

Library it is. Maybe he can find an e-book with anyyyy information on numbers and the importance of numbers in cultures from this universe. Chances are he'll find squat he can apply to the numbers on the walls, but it's better than having to sit still for a full week or something. And then maybe go to the med bay and make sure his nasty little row of sutures are doing okay. Hygiene is important mkay. Though he might be hobbling along like an old man until his back feels better. What a loser.]

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That's there, this is here. You know you almost-- [ died. but he cuts himself off right there, grumbling and eventually sighing. ]

Just stay put, I'll be right there.

Geez, man, I'm not a lost five-year-old.

...

I'm not going anywhere.

[my back hurts and I don't wanna move anyway >:^|]

Yeah, you're right, I was thinkin' more along the lines of three-year-old.

[ dumbass. ]

Good. Wouldn't wanna sic Cas on your ass 'cause you think some more limpin' around is somehow a great idea.

[He huffs.]

Alright, if I'm three — bring me a drink and some painkillers? I'll even let you hold the glass for me.

[ HE WILL ACTUALLY. gonna bring u the shit that'll knock u out bitch ]

Awesome. Need a pair of diapers, too? Ain't gonna change 'em for you though.

[omg shut up jerk]

I refuse to believe we have any kind of adult diaper stock aboard the ship.

Unless you've already looked into that.

But you can always get me something to eat.

[Is he taking advantage of Dean's mother henning this past few days? Maaaybe.]

Believe whatever you want, but I'm always prepared when you're around, little brother.

[ but something to eat? he can do that, he can definitely do that. brb spending the next half hour in the kitchen perfecting the most perfect sandwich for you ever.

but before he gets sucked up into that-- ]

You better not run off before I get there. Or limp off-- or however it is you got there in the first place.

[You're such a huffy nanny.]

No running off.

[Because he kind of did stagger into the gardens, and he is so not eager to move. He already sounds kind of exhausted from the trip. He may even fall asleep on accident waiting for you, loser.]

Might roll off into the sunset, though.

[ and you're the helpless teenage babychild.

also snorting. ] Good luck findin' a sunset.

[ but alright!! sandwich making time. ]

[My hero!!

Sam is going to —

fall asleep like a loser under this tree over here.

But hey, at least he'll be resting by the time Dean shows up?]

[ at which point, when dean finds his brother's giant slumbering form, he almost decides to not wake him up. CLEARLY SOMEONE AROUND HERE REALLY NEEDS SOME REST SIGH.

but the sandwich is warm -- yeah, he went all out -- and dean's planning on dragging sam somewhere more comfortable to sleep eventually anyway, so he settles down next to his mammoth baby brother and gently nudged his leg. ]

Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty. Gonna invite birds to nest in your hair at this rate.

[Sam swats groggily at the air, and one can only assume he was trying to belatedly swat at Dean's arm. Really, he might as well be at a motel somewhere getting woken up to a case. Then the ache comes back, and he winces, slowly twisting himself in discomfort.]

Not sleeping, just - resting my eyes.

Uh-huh, are you gonna tell me the still healing mess on your back was just a flesh wound next? [ so unimpressed sam. but here, he dumps a neatly wrapped sandwich in your lap. ]

Eat up.

[He takes the sandwich, fidgeting with the wrap.

Snort.]

It is just a flesh wound now. I'm seriously okay.

[It's just... everything else. From home. His gaze drifts to his knees.]

What else happened that night?

[ don't u snort at him ]

You exercising out here won't make it heal any faster.

[ dean leans back against the tree, looking off at the rest of the garden. ]

Nothing really. We fixed you up, and... [ what's the simplest, most convenient way to put this. ] Then we went after Azazel.

No, but it'll kill some boredom.

[Dude, laying in a hospital bed sucks.

He grows quiet at that, staring at his food when his knees prove to be too typical to gaze at.]

How'd you get me vertical without an angel? You throw me in a hospital?

And you.

[ he'll fight you on this until you're asking for the hospital bed. ]

Something like that. Fast reaction, some-- [ wowee he struggles with this part of the lie bc it's such bs ] --luck that came from I don't know where, a lotta hospital bed boredom... and you were good. I mean, it all took a long-ass time but that's what happens when you get stabbed.

[Sam resists the urge to sigh and roll his eyes at that first bit, because seriously, man? He's gonna be okay. But then he hesitates — because he's worried about the answer, looking at Dean, really looking at him.]

I'm not... paralyzed or anything back home?

Dean, it's right in the middle of my spine. I'm not stupid.

[He doesn't believe for a second that he walked away unscathed after some hospital time, not with a knife wound like that.]

Look, they worked some-- I don't know, real miracle on your ass. I ain't saying it was an easy process-- 'cause it wasn't, at all. It involved like surgeries and stuff, dude. [ and dean meets that look head on. ]

But it worked. That's it. And you're fine, somehow. I ain't gonna start questioning it too much.

[ so let's drop this alright? ]

[He doesn't look impressed or sated by the answer, turning his stare away, working his jaw in that worried, over-thinking way.] Fine? Since when is being some guy in the running for leading a hell army fine?

[He's pretty sure you're full of shit.

But then, it's not the first time Dean's pulled this on him. He's finally lost dad, sees a few spots from then Dean had casually glossed over here aboard the ship. But he also figures Dean knows everything that happens now, and he thumbs his sleeve and looks very, very tired.]

I saw what happened. With mom. Saw it all.

I know about... what's wrong with me.

[He knew it. He knew there was something seriously grimy about himself.

Just knew it.]

[ there's the tired, weary look dean only remembers on a sam much older than this one, and it has him speaking up without hesitation; ]

Sam, there's nothing wrong with you.

[ it's immediate, snapping more than dean intends for it to be. but sam needs to understand it, despite how he knows his brother won't, but he needs to hear the truth of this even if nothing else. ]

The things you saw? That shit doesn't mean anything, you're fine.

[His head snaps up, angry lines in his brow and nose.]

Stop. Face reality here and stop trying to make me feel better. I've known something's wrong with me since before I can even remember.

[His expression falls, and he looks away. Clearly, he'd admitted too much.]

So just... don't. I was never gonna be normal anyway.

[It is what it is.]

[ admitting too much or not, he's not about to let sam walk away from here thinking that. ]

I'm not trying to make you feel better, I'm tryin' to tell you I know what your reality is for the next good few years 'cause I've lived through 'em. And you know what those years have in store? Shit. Lots of it. But at the end of the day, you're okay. You're as normal as I am-- [ except for the part where he's pretty sure sam's three seconds away from dying thanks to the trials. ] --as normal as any hunter.

[ he watches his brother carefully, each word as serious as the next. ] I know it doesn't seem like that right now, not with all that crap Azazel and those other kids were pulling. But it'll be okay, Sam. You'll be fine.

[He looks at his brother, gaze unwavering.

He keeps hearing that shit's going to happen. He knows it will.

And he's not so sure he can put faith in his brother's words.]

Be honest with me — don't even try to lie to me.

What do I have to look forward to?

[Because right now... He's not even sure. He's not sure what the bright side can be, if all that awaits them is dead relatives and an apocalypse and Sam getting all fucked up and hurting Dean like he had, letting him turn. And now that he knows Dad considered him a threat enough to warn Dean... He's not sure what to believe here.]

[ well shit. dean hesitates, lingers on that question for what's probably too long. every time he thinks of something, another memory of things further down the line crush it. ]

There's a lot of good and bad, Sam. [ beat. ] Okay, more bad-- but the point is, we deal with it together. We solve that shit together, man. Even when things get real bad. So-- I don't know, I can't promise you sunshine and puppies back home, but that's life, y'know? Our life. Doesn't mean we just give up either.

[ because sam had looked dangerously close to giving up the last he'd seen him, all in the pretense of completing the tasks for closing the gates of hell. ]

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