driftfleet | action./voice.

Who: Sam Winchester
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Bloodsport
When: Now-ish!

[Man, he had the nicest dream. And yeah, he knows it's just a dream, because it's nice. That's literally the criteria the dude works with most nights. His brother and mother and Cas, they were all sitting in the bunker enjoying a movie, or something. He couldn't remember the movie exactly, but there were people who were definitely supposed to be dead there. And they had retired, and it was all good, and they were talking about fishing nearby where it's really abandoned —

When he peels his eyes open he feels like he has the biggest hangover of his life — and is more than a little uneasy (that dream didn't help), and before long he's shuffling through the halls of the Bloodsport like a full month of being missing didn't happen. He knows something's off for sure, but, um. He's also half-awake, hair askew and palm pressing into the socket of one eye to stave off a migraine.]

Man, where'd this even come from...

[Don't worry, it'll go away eventually. He'll just. Make some coffee. Yes.

He sits down with his cup of coffee and turns on his comm device, and nearly spits his drink on it.]

I've been out a month!?

[AW MAN, NOT LOST TIME AGAIN.

Sam Winchester and lost time, not buddies, thanks.

A little while later, after he catches up with his buddies:]

[VOICE.]

Hey, uh. So. I've been out a while. Sorry about that — It's been a hell of a... time... I guess. To be honest, I can't really say it feels like it's been that long. I might as well pick up right where I left off, though — right. Blood drives are at the Iskaulit; I'll be available throughout the next few days for that, if you're interested in donating blood.

You do have some paperwork to fill out, and I'm keeping the cut-off at 16, but for those who qualify, it can be a matter of life or death around here when things go crazy.

For anyone new, hey — I'm Sam Winchester, employee at The Space Bar. I also loan out books from my personal stash if you're feeling bored. If you're a new face to me, I'd love to learn more about you, especially what kind of earth or universe you're from. We all seem to have pretty interesting diverging paths at some point, even if the rest of our Earths match up pretty well.

... Like for example, imaginary friends are real in my world, and Snooki is a demon.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Sam blinks back into life, nearly choking on his own breath — and suddenly, there's a curdling dread in his stomach, syphoned from the memory of Castiel's own. He rubs a palm across his face and tries to soothe himself with the thought that, at the very least, nobody got hurt by such an expedition. But now he's getting terrible flashbacks of particular purgatory monsters that had been their own breed of black, oily ooze. Familiar. Probably not related whatsoever, but boy, it brings back memories.]

What the hell was that? The — the end part.

[The gross black infinite oily shit, Cas. That part.]

I don't know. [And because they're on similar trains of thought with that-] Not Leviathan. They make look similar but the feeling is different- unless the warding that kept me from the ship was affecting that as well.

Considering they prefer taking the shape of everyone else and eating them, I can't say they fit the profile anyway. [But it's still a little unsettling nonetheless.] There was warding on the ship? Similar to home, or something more localized?

I don't know. Sam- [Finds a chair, pulls it out to sit down. Folds his hands atop the table.] Whatever is on that ship, whatever that ship is made of, whatever protects that ship...I've never seen before. Gods attacked it and did nothing.

We may be against something similar.

[He rubs a hand over the nape of his neck, blowing out a breath.]

It wouldn't be a day in our life otherwise, right? There's always something to stab or, uh. Ritual at. What were the side effects of seeing all that, then? Because you clearly got hit with something.

[He gives him a Look that says 'tell me otherwise bitch'. Or something like that.

But nicer and Sam-friendly.]

[Sighs, looking away for a moment before returning that laserlike focus back onto Sam. If Sam comes with Cas next time he does something like that, he'll have to know what he's in store for, after all.] Fever, chills. Hallucinations, sometimes. The duration of the symptoms vary from trip to trip, but so far they haven't lasted longer than a week, for me. The shortest period was three days.

[.......................

He scrubs a hand over his face.]

Jesus, Cas.

What else could I have done, Sam?

[Leans back, spreading his hands a little.] All indication pointed toward you being aboard that ship.

[Oh, he knows it's a fruitless thing to complain about.

After all, Castiel is way too much like them when it comes to throwing himself headfirst into danger for each other.]

I know, I know. It's just — I don't want you getting yourself screwed up over it.

['Over me', is the proper reply, but he figures that'll just get him some bitch-facing in return.]

... I'd have done the same.

You're feeling a lot better, right?

[Please, ease his concerns, my dude.]

[Cas catches onto that easily enough anyway, though there's less bitch-facing and more of that old sadness he levels at Sam whenever he sees that self-sacrifice rearing its ugly, ugly head again.]

Yes, Sam. I'm feeling much better.

[He'd been carefully measuring his strength out for when he needed to try again.]

... Good. Can you at least tell me you won't go too crazy with the whole search and rescue thing, if it ever comes up again? For my peace of mind? Don't keep punishing yourself after the first go-around, man. It's not worth it if you accidentally get yourself killed.

[He's coming from a place of being a friend, here —

Just give him an empty promise, he'll work with that for five seconds.]

[What's Castiel if he's not doing something crazy to try and get information, get a leg up on an enemy, pluck a Winchester from the jaws of death? He doesn't even succeed at those things very often even when he does go crazy.

Well- he can promise something, at least. And mean it. He doesn't want to lie to Sam anymore.]

You have my word that I'll be as careful as I can.