driftfleet | voice. a quick sad post.

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voice. a quick sad post.

Who: Sam Winchester
Broadcast: fleetwide
Action: Red Fish
When: after a sad shuffle :C

[Sam's very much subdued the day that Dean vanishes. If he reacts more viscerally to it, to knowing that this Dean was returning to his inevitable death at Sam and satan's own hands, nobody'd know it — he closes himself up in his room, keeps himself distant for a little while. It helps, because it also gets him away from those damned echoes that have begun to snowball. He's tried his best to ignore them, and with Dean suddenly gone... he doesn't trust himself to be anything but stressed at the sight.

Anyway. Um. Best to move forward, right...? Get back into things. Working at the bar keeps his mind busy, as does helping with the garden, and there's also helping with the weird messages from the planet, and — dammit, Sam, get back into things. Fake it 'til you make it. This too shall pass, if you pretend hard enough that you're fine. So he breathes in deep, breathes out, and addresses the fleet.]

My brother, Dean, um. Dean Winchester's left the fleet. I wasn't sure how many people knew him, but...

[A pause.]

Anyone want to talk? I could use something to keep me occupied. Your choice of topic, just shoot. I can be a pretty good listener, too.

[Help me get out of this funk, huh.]

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[He considers it for a moment, rather nonchalantly.]

Aaaah, well. Yeah, definitely.

It felt like someone punched me really hard, you know? Just for a moment. Like a bar fight where someone's biggest toughest biker bud came up and slammed a glass into my skull. When I woke back up I was okay - got between someone and their wishing well, and they wished me dead. Luckily the special coin was removed from it and undid the damage.

[ there's a warped sort of logic to it: a wish undone, and therefore a life restored. peggy doesn't much like the logic. but she does what she can to accept the premise if only to keep the conversation on is wheels. ]

How long had it been?

Aaaah, not very long, I don't think. I don't think my soul even got to heaven.

[Such casual chit-chat about dying and heaven and whatnot.

Typical Winchester conversations.]

Screwed up stuff. The original wish-maker wished for a girl he liked to love him. She was so devoted to him after the wish, she didn't want me to get in the way of their love by breaking the spell.

... People will do crazy things for whatever they think is love, I guess.

[ ugh. forgive her if she betrays a moment of raw disgust. peggy can understand going to great and harrowing lengths for love -- as long as she doesn't have to admit it out loud. but the thought of bending magic (already a thoroughly foreign concept to her) to such an end makes her stomach churn. bad enough that mind control should be used in warfare and espionage, now. ]

Crazy is drinking too many pints at the local and running starkers through camp to try and catch your sweetheart's eye. [ ... ] By contrast, what you're describing is utterly abhorrent.

Oh, you don't have to tell me twice.

One time, I had a crazed fan drug me into a forced marriage.

[He's just gonna pour a lot of alcohol into this cup okay? okay.]

Just how I wanted my love life to go. Tied to a bed with a crazy fan looming over me. With no pants.

[He just shakes his head, because what is his life.]

[ jeezy creezy. peggy looks appropriately (and sincerely!) alarmed at the suggestion. she almost wants to warn him off the booze but -- no, she'll let him at it. she'd want the same. ]

I'm sorry you had to endure it. Sounds dreadful. [ ... ] What happened?

Basically...? She made a deal with a demon for a love potion.

Once we tracked it and worked on taking it out, it was just a matter of telling her how stupid she'd been. Dealing with a demon? Stupid. I can't really say my family hasn't been stupid either, but nearly damning your soul for a love potion sure is bottom of the barrel. Lucky for me, I got to walk away from it. I don't know if she's none the wiser... but I like to think she changed her ways.

No. Sorry -- [ a short shake of her head ] -- I meant, how did you escape?

Oh. Well...

Turns out, she kind of would rather keep her soul than sell it for eternal hellfire.

She untied me for help in dealing with the demon in question.

Edited 2017-01-07 04:01 (UTC)

Oh. [ give her a moment to digest it. ] Silver linings, I suppose.

[ it's not intended to be so flippant as it sounds. there's still a look of deep dismay lurking behind her brown eyes. she drinks -- brows furrowing as she processes the troubling nature of his situation. ]

I sort of hopes you at least kicked her in her shins. All the same. [ does she? maybe. maybe not. peggy, at least, would have done exactly that. and more. ]

[He ducks his head, sheepish.

Oh, right.]

Yeah, good point. I guess I never really thought about that; I'm so used to crappy circumstances I guess, so I never even... really batted an eye for the most part. Kind of screwed up now that you say it like that. [Sam truly lives a shit life in many scenarios.] You probably know what I mean, right? Why complain about a scrape when you've dealt with a broken leg?

Bollocks. [ she purses her lips and watches his hesitation with a sharpish eye. ] I'll bemoan every last scrape. Someone has to.

[ it'a a lie, of course. designed to cover the fact that she behaves exactly as he expects. stick her through the gut with rebar and she'll still insist on rising to the occasion. but she is (perhaps) not prepared to see such bullheaded stupidity flourish in another person. ]

She deserves a thump for her idiocy.

[ but if you ask peggy, nearly everyone deserves a thump. ]

[... Oh. Well. He gives a nod, smiling softly.]

She did deserve it, you're right. It was a shitty thing to do.

[Strange, he only seems to just get the severity of the situation - if it had been anyone else getting essentially kidnapped and roomies, he'd be furious on their behalf. It had been terrible and a violation of sorts - Hell, she'd been talking about consummating their marriage. But after Lucifer... after decades being burned and ripped apart and mentally smashed and reformed... he stares distantly for a moment, frowning.]

... I guess I just expect it. Got used to it.

[He glances up.]

Can I be honest with you about something?

[ peggy gets a feel for the silences -- follows their beats, and uses one to lean forward and fill his glass. fill her own, too. the measures are generous. ]

Certainly -- if you want to be. [ the implication is clear. she doesn't expect honesty from him. she will not fault him for dodging, ducking, evading. but if he has something he wants to say (something he's ready to say) then she will be a patient ear for him. ]

[He licks his lips. Scoffs at himself, looking away, cup in hand.]

If it weren't for my brother... if it weren't for everything I had to fix back home...

I mean... it's just, if I had the choice, I don't know that I'd ever leave here.

Edited 2017-01-07 05:07 (UTC)

[ she's about to pick up her cup. her fingers hesitate -- pad of her thumb on the porcelain. one by one, her victory red nails tap against the rim. funny how this revelation is so much easier to swallow than any about angels and gods and demons. but it's harder to react to, because she's nervous of betraying too much of the same. ]

Things have gotten so arse-backwards, have they? [ putting it mildly. peggy knocks back a mouthful, all at once, and tries not to scrutinize her own home-life by the same yardstick. ] Heaven knows, this place can be damned seductive. Surveillance state and all.

[He huffs.]

Yeah. Last I was home, I was in the middle of dying.

Probably, anyway.

It's always something there. Every time I leave and come back I just feel this big -- sigh of relief. Being. Able to relax is so friggin nice.

[He drinks from his horribly alcoholic tea. It's like discussing bad weather.

But then he closes his eyes, wincing, waving a hand.

It's cathartic, but it's undeserved.]

Sorry, I'm in a crap mood today; I'm just unloading on you like you're a therapist or something.

I've always been a good listener. [ her expression is tinged with a dampened wit. ] Therapists and spies have that in common, I think. The difference is in how we use what we hear.

[ that's not to say she's about to wield his confession like a knife; truly, she isn't. but she wants to absolve him of some of his guilt for telling her anything. peggy's had a long career in cultivating information: in a kindly fashion or otherwise. it isn't wholly his fault if he felt compelled to share. ]

But I will add that I know a bit about fatal wounds. Maybe not as much as you -- [ a tip of her cup ] -- but I have a very long and painful convalescence to look forward to when I return.

[ when. she isn't kind enough to herself to make it an if. ]

Edited (I DID IT AGAIN why do i keep making single nouns plural) 2017-01-07 05:35 (UTC)

Oh? Trouble on a job?

['Mission' is a funny word to Sam, for his line of work.

Gig seems kind of silly now that he thinks about it, though. Like he's a musician, or something.]

[ she doesn't have the heart to tell him the 'job' in question is barely sanctioned. instead, peggy pushes her chair back and touches her palm against her abdomen. a little to the side, and low on her stomach. there's a scar under her tucked-in blouse, but she doesn't rush to share sight of it. alluding to its existence is enough. ]

Fell off a ledge and got myself skewered on a bit of rebar. Unpleasant.

[ lies! she let go on purpose. but peggy had been sparing herself a much worse fate. ]

[..... Peggy, none of Sam's jobs are sanctioned.

But anyway.

Full sympathy wince initiated.]

Crap. That's the worst, huh? I was shot there a few months ago.

[He puts a hand over LITERALLY THE SAME SPOT. Eyy. Rolls his eyes.]

What kind of werewolf uses a gun anyway?

[ pardon the quasi-blank stare as he says werewolf. moving on! ]

One who is thoroughly modern, I presume. [ look. sometimes you can't beat a good pistol. ]

[SIIIGH.]

Back in my day, werewolves used their claws.

[He's just being a teasing little - er, big troll.

But anyway.]

Why'd you go tumbling into rebar?

[ look, ordinarily she'd play this part off. give a little lip service to something about a warehouse chase or maybe go as far as to implicate roxxon. but sam has said enough unbelievable things, today. it's only fair that she should have her turn. ]

A famous starlet was trying to absorb me through her hands. Sort of. [ she describes it in a very purposefully obtuse manner. he's had her at such a disadvantage with his stories. she wants to capture a bit of that for herself. ]

Oh, wow.

[It's hard to shock or freak Sam out - and certainly it still applies - but there's a real twinkle of interest in his eyes at that.]

We had someone like that. Sort of. They absorbed people and became them, anyway.

...

Was that her way of saying she liked you, orrrr was it attempted murder?

[:| because people are friggin crazy]

voice. a quick sad post.

action.

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hope* wow.

What an interesting accent Peggy

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