Sam Winchester (
boyking) wrote in
damned_institute2010-04-28 03:18 am
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Day 49: Early Afternoon - Black Rock Inn
So much for not ending up drowned.
In retrospect, Sam probably should've escaped to a diner or something and stayed dry since it wasn't as if his walking about had yielded anything remotely useful. But he'd wanted to actually do something. He hadn't expected it to go from pouring to dumping buckets, either, but there it was.
At least he'd managed to talk to Dean this morning. Really talk, that was. Yeah, he still had no idea how the hell he was gonna pull any of this off—figuring out this date crap, saving Dean, the list kinda went on—but he'd gotten Dean on board and somehow that was...important, in and of itself. They hadn't been on the same page in awhile. Maybe they still weren't, but it felt that way for now. Sam couldn't ask for more.
Though God knew how long it'd last. Probably not very. You grow up around someone and after awhile, it got easy to predict how things usually went between the two of you.
Shaking rain-soaked bangs out of his eyes, he slipped into the nearest place he could find. Which happened to be—actually, it happened to be a pretty nice place. Nicer than some of the little shops around here and definitely way nicer than the run-down motels he tended to crash in. It made him feel twice as awkward, considering he was already dripping wet on top of everything else, but honestly he didn't even care. They already figured he was crazy so it wasn't like they could think any less of him. Right now, he was more interested in avoiding pneumonia than making friends.
He did keep off the couches, though. No point in leaving them wet for anyone else coming in. He ducked down near the fireplace instead. It was a real fireplace, not one of those fake ones that half of the places had these days. You didn't see those a lot anymore. With any luck, the whole psychiatric patient gig would keep most people away while he made his futile attempt to dry off.
Man. He wondered where Dean was. A part of him kinda hoped Dean was just as soaked as he was. It'd only be fair.
[his new best friends Lelouch and Nunnally]
In retrospect, Sam probably should've escaped to a diner or something and stayed dry since it wasn't as if his walking about had yielded anything remotely useful. But he'd wanted to actually do something. He hadn't expected it to go from pouring to dumping buckets, either, but there it was.
At least he'd managed to talk to Dean this morning. Really talk, that was. Yeah, he still had no idea how the hell he was gonna pull any of this off—figuring out this date crap, saving Dean, the list kinda went on—but he'd gotten Dean on board and somehow that was...important, in and of itself. They hadn't been on the same page in awhile. Maybe they still weren't, but it felt that way for now. Sam couldn't ask for more.
Though God knew how long it'd last. Probably not very. You grow up around someone and after awhile, it got easy to predict how things usually went between the two of you.
Shaking rain-soaked bangs out of his eyes, he slipped into the nearest place he could find. Which happened to be—actually, it happened to be a pretty nice place. Nicer than some of the little shops around here and definitely way nicer than the run-down motels he tended to crash in. It made him feel twice as awkward, considering he was already dripping wet on top of everything else, but honestly he didn't even care. They already figured he was crazy so it wasn't like they could think any less of him. Right now, he was more interested in avoiding pneumonia than making friends.
He did keep off the couches, though. No point in leaving them wet for anyone else coming in. He ducked down near the fireplace instead. It was a real fireplace, not one of those fake ones that half of the places had these days. You didn't see those a lot anymore. With any luck, the whole psychiatric patient gig would keep most people away while he made his futile attempt to dry off.
Man. He wondered where Dean was. A part of him kinda hoped Dean was just as soaked as he was. It'd only be fair.
[
no subject
"Fine," she answered perfunctorily. A beat, and she rethought it, wondered instead. She glanced at Ikari, gaze slightly unsure. "The place we're staying at. It has something to do with military experiments?" She didn't so much as doubt the words of her seatmate earlier, but would rather confirmation.
Agh, I totally thought I replied to this. Sorry!
"Maybe it is the military. I don't know."
no problem.~
"Someone I spoke to seemed to believe that," she answered. "They were adamant."
no subject
He sighed. "I don't know what to think."
His shoulders slumped and he stared down at his hands, trying to think of something to say.
no subject
Military experiments, tests. With those items in front of her, she could believe as much. But she did not know. And without that knowledge, it was meaningless. Her eyes slid back to Ikari, watching carefully. "Do you know," she started quietly, "what they did to him?"
To the Fifth Child, she meant. To the one who had introduced himself as Kaworu Nagisa. One similar. If one didn't look too deep to find opposites.
no subject
He had nothing more to say. He couldn't help Kaworu. He could barely help himself. He was pathetic and alone again - he knew nothing and again he'd let a friend suffer while he stood by helplessly. It was just like before. Just like with Toji or Asuka or Rei. He always failed.
no subject
She could not offer that either, but she could understand that touch could be a comfort. Rei leaned to the side slightly, shoulder brushing Ikari's. Strange. It felt. Strange. But not necessarily bad. "He'll tell us. More than likely."
no subject
He hoped so, anyway. Shinji hated worrying. Then again, there were a lot of things Shinji didn't like.