Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
collegedropout) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-05-10 02:34 am
collegedropout) wrote in driftfleet2016-05-10 02:34 am
video.
Who: Sam Winchester
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Red Fish
When: Today-ish
[Sam's currently taking the time to heal after certain people we shall not name shot him in the arm; it's all good, it's all good. Pop some pain meds, keep the arm from getting worked too hard, it's going great. But now that he can't go do some work down on the moon, he's a bit more restless. Maybe he should tell Katie about his arm, have her work a little magic mojo...? Or should he just. Not tell the small child that someone shot him in the arm. Anyway.
He takes some time to voice some internal stuff. It was mostly spawned by Nightingale, and he can't help but speak up; it's utterly bizarre, he thinks, that he does that now. Speak up. He's still shitty at it, like, 60% of the time, but every percent counts. He compares it to the guy who was dying in a chapel not so long ago, and really, the amount of worth he's found in himself compared to then is staggering when he thinks about it.
Things change. He feels like he's been changing at a vicious pace for the last eleven years. But is that so surprising? Considering the friggin' circumstances, he supposes it only makes sense.]
Someone here asked me how to think positive.
More than that, how to be positive about yourself. And honestly? That's a work in progress. Don't get me wrong, you're talking to a hypocrite if I go... chiding you on healthy outlooks. But you know, someone from another world gave me a task, back when I was low — I mean, really low. She said... Even if it's only once a week, once a month, you should stop and remind yourself of something positive — about yourself. Some good thing you do, or some skill you have. Something that makes you you. Strengths. Foundations for others to work off of. Or hey, maybe you just like the way your nose looks.
If's kind of important, isn't it? Feeling like you're worth something in some way. I'd argue it's kind of a survival technique, right? Believing in your capabilities, they kind of help you get through rough situations. Help you be a better person, or contribute in a way that makes you feel like an important puzzle piece.
[He sweeps his hands though the air, palm-up, simply gestures that come with conversation. One arm is less lively than the other.]
And yeah, I can already hear some of you, telling me to pipe down on the armchair psychology, can it with the talk show advice. Kind of sappy, right? But I mean — hear me out, huh? Humor me.
What's something you guys like about yourselves?
...
And if you give some creepy, flippant, or otherwise wise-ass reply for some chuckles, we get it. You like how edgy you are.
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Red Fish
When: Today-ish
[Sam's currently taking the time to heal after certain people we shall not name shot him in the arm; it's all good, it's all good. Pop some pain meds, keep the arm from getting worked too hard, it's going great. But now that he can't go do some work down on the moon, he's a bit more restless. Maybe he should tell Katie about his arm, have her work a little magic mojo...? Or should he just. Not tell the small child that someone shot him in the arm. Anyway.
He takes some time to voice some internal stuff. It was mostly spawned by Nightingale, and he can't help but speak up; it's utterly bizarre, he thinks, that he does that now. Speak up. He's still shitty at it, like, 60% of the time, but every percent counts. He compares it to the guy who was dying in a chapel not so long ago, and really, the amount of worth he's found in himself compared to then is staggering when he thinks about it.
Things change. He feels like he's been changing at a vicious pace for the last eleven years. But is that so surprising? Considering the friggin' circumstances, he supposes it only makes sense.]
Someone here asked me how to think positive.
More than that, how to be positive about yourself. And honestly? That's a work in progress. Don't get me wrong, you're talking to a hypocrite if I go... chiding you on healthy outlooks. But you know, someone from another world gave me a task, back when I was low — I mean, really low. She said... Even if it's only once a week, once a month, you should stop and remind yourself of something positive — about yourself. Some good thing you do, or some skill you have. Something that makes you you. Strengths. Foundations for others to work off of. Or hey, maybe you just like the way your nose looks.
If's kind of important, isn't it? Feeling like you're worth something in some way. I'd argue it's kind of a survival technique, right? Believing in your capabilities, they kind of help you get through rough situations. Help you be a better person, or contribute in a way that makes you feel like an important puzzle piece.
[He sweeps his hands though the air, palm-up, simply gestures that come with conversation. One arm is less lively than the other.]
And yeah, I can already hear some of you, telling me to pipe down on the armchair psychology, can it with the talk show advice. Kind of sappy, right? But I mean — hear me out, huh? Humor me.
What's something you guys like about yourselves?
...
And if you give some creepy, flippant, or otherwise wise-ass reply for some chuckles, we get it. You like how edgy you are.
action.
Though he's trying to figure out how to have this discussion, because... usually, this ends with Dean being grumpy that Sam's opened his mind a little more on monsters. Because they're... not really much for hunting here. The changes in universes are so large, so vast. And though he's still biased as hell against all sorts of monsters... he would be in deep trouble before, if he hadn't relied on the supernatural before.]
Well, you know I can't blame you for not trusting it.
We don't know the rules of a lot of monsters; that can make it worse.
But...
[He taps his fingers on the table.]
I can't deny it; some have really pulled through for me before, in a bad situation.
action.
Whether or not it's true. He doesn't give a shit. At least not yet. ]
And that means, what- we give the rest of them a free pass? Wait and see what happens, right?
action.
What else are you recommending? Shoot some of them after a handshake, then get your ass air-locked by the offended parties...? Free passes are about all we can do until one of them actually tries to go in for a kill.
[He cocks his head to the side, looking at Dean. Looking for something in there, maybe.]
That's what we do. We don't kill the good ones, Dean.
action.
He's just immune to this, there have just been too many people. ]
Because waiting around does everyone a whole lotta good, doesn't it. [ Ahem. ] Picture this, Sam. You're in charge of your own little compound, keep track of all the survivors tryin' to live day in, day out. And someone shows up, good person, right? Shows up with all the first signs of turning.
What do you do.
action.
[He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.]
But — Dean... We're not in a compound. And nobody is infected.
We can't work like that here. Neither of us.
action.
You just failed that quiz. Perhaps if you had answered correctly, Dean might not be done with this conversation. But... you didn't, and so he is. ]
So you keep saying. [ And with that, he's going to start heading back to his room to be a hermit. ]
action.
[He stands up, frowning disapprovingly in Dean's direction.
You are such a sulker; his rare temper flares for a moment, but he stamps it down, takes up a more logical angle.]
You don't think I'd have my reasons for distrusting demons? Monsters? Angels?
We have to put aside how we feel about this and look at this objectively, man. You can pout and mope all you want in there, but these people are our crew — and we're gonna live with them and they're gonna save our asses when things get rough.
action.
But he's unimpressed by the argument here, waving a hand back towards the rooms as is a certain someone were standing right there. ]
You think anyone actually gives a shit about anyone else when things are fucked? Crew or not, the last person who had anything to do with saving my ass was Cas, and everyone else? Is damn good at fending for themselves.
And you know what? They should be.
action.
[He watches Dean wearily, one hand curled on the lip of his chair, the other sitting in its sling, a testament to the tension between them. His expression softens.]
... I'm here to watch your back. I might not have in your world, and I'm sorry I let you down, but I'm here. And I know when push comes to shove, you'll watch the backs that matter. No matter how much you've changed — you're still you. I believe that, always will.
[Because he says you're you.
It has to start somewhere. It's a long road, and he knows you're different, but...
It has to start somewhere.]
action.
He still stares off for a moment towards where he'd desperately like to disappear to before he finally looks back, not so much enraged as he wishes he was but at the very least, a modicum of miserable. ]
I'm not lookin' for your apologies. We both made our choices and you know what- all I have done for the past five years is watch people's backs. I was the goddamn fearless leader- [ a phrase he says with no small amount of disgust ] - Cas told everyone about and you know what? It meant killing people that no one else would. To save everyone that I could for one more day.
So you want to tell me to play nice, then fine- but I'm not looking to turn another world into a goddamn shitshow.
Re: action.
You don't have to watch for anyone. You don't have to lead anything. Hell, you don't have to save anyone. Just... don't do anything that'll get you into trouble, just to get yourself a bunch of burnt bridges.
I'll watch your back.
[Because that's his job. It'll be his job.]
And work on getting things figured out with the Atroma.
action.
He can't help that it's become ingrained and really, he's fairly sure he had a good reason for it to begin with. ]
And if i've got you and Cas, then why the hell would I need any other bridges?
[ Answer him that poignantly terrible question. ]
action;
[He steps forward, stands a few steps in front of Dean with a quiet tempered patience and a look that screams many years of his own. He rubs a hand across his mouth, drops his hand.]
You have Cas — sure, a little different than he was before, but he's your Cas. And you've had your brother. You don't think you'll need anyone else. But then something — bad happens, while you're trying to stop the world from ending all over again, and they're just... gone. Before you can even blink, they're gone, and you're left all alone. Just you and the car keys, and nobody's left to pick up a phone.
What do you do?
[What if Sam and Cas vanish tomorrow, Dean?
He wants you to be prepared, to have alliances. To be ready.]
action;
He's not doing this.
Cas is already dead and it's his fault.
Something behind Sam's shoulder becomes utterly fascinating while he continues to speak, the utter point-blank-ness of it enough to make him feel like the world is at a precipice all over again. The edge of death he's sat on for five years. It's near excruciating - he hates having to face what he did to Cas, despite his mind reminding him of it on a nearly minute by minute basis, recognizing his own failure while being perfectly aware of the fact that it's not what Sam is getting at. No, he's not clueless to what Sam is saying, he's thought of it before, and it's crushing enough that he's halfway inclined to put a fist into Sam's face just to get him to stop.
Just make it stop.
But all he can think about, all he can think about, is the fact that he already killed Cas once, that he already made choices that fucked things up so severely that he lost it all and that there's nothing left to return to. ]
You put up or shut up.
[ Except he might not even be remotely willing to make eye contact at this exact moment in time. ]
action;
You find something to hold onto.
action;
He needs to go be miserable whilst not being stared at and now more than ever, when the world is getting horridly misty, Dean could go for some privacy like nobody's business. ]
Not if there's nothing else.
action;
... There's always something else.
[Even when Sam doesn't want it, too. Even when he's ready to lay down and die. There was Ruby leading him toward darker things. There was Amelia leading him toward a moment's peace. There was Dean, pulling him back when he wanted the Trials to swallow him whole and spit out the bones. There's always something to fill that miserable kind of void.]
I can't say it'll be the thing you want. But. There is. That counts for here, too. [He reaches out to pat Dean's shoulder, stops and hovers there.] Just... consider that, okay? Think on that.
action;
There's Cas. There's been Cas ever since he lost you, and that's it. Dean's just grown used to that fact, which makes it infinitely easier to believe that there will never be anyone else. ]
Gonna have to agree to disagree.
action;
... Just takes some time.
You'll see. It'll get better.
action;
Because that's ever happened.
[ Can he slowly walk away now. Is that allowed. ] Anything else you want to add?
action;
[Sam's got faith. He's always had to have some of it, to get through the day. After a moment, he cocks his head to the side. Is quiet, as he mulls over Dean's words, his tone, the aura around him that screams escape. His lips curve, just slightly.]
... Let's go play darts later. I won't even dive into any feel-good movie speeches.
action;
So fine, this is something he can do. And potentially even enjoy. ]
Keep it off the Hallmark channel and we'll be fine.
action;
Sounds like a deal.
[And so, we've avoided any big arguments for the rest of the day.
And all was okay until Meg showed up.]