Day 49: Early Afternoon - Black Rock Inn

[boyking]

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]

Comments

[boyking]

The question of why Nunnally had been brought here in the first place lingered as he watched the two of them. That anyone would get dragged into this mess at all was one thing, but it felt especially disturbing in Nunnally's case. She had no marks on her, not that Sam could see. That wheelchair hadn't been for a recent injury.

But then, whoever—whatever—was orchestrating this seemed just as interested in playing mind games as they were in getting the patients to lose a limb or two every couple nights, if not more so. There was no better way to screw with someone's head than to bring family into the equation. Whatever Lelouch might've been play-acting at or hiding, he was at least genuine around his sister. That much, Sam could tell.

What this said was something he'd have to piece together later.

"Yeah." He gave a nod at the question, shifting so that he was sitting cross-legged. "Yeah, I do, actually. Older brother, as well." No reason to lie about it. Lelouch already knew and Lelouch was the only one Sam was concerned about. "He tends to get into trouble, though."

The last was a wry comment, but innocent enough at the same time. He didn't catch Lelouch's gaze, as much as the thought crossed his mind. While he had no issues flipping Lelouch's playing field right over, the presence of Lelouch's sister changed everything. Sam would rather just leave it. It didn't feel right when she had nothing to do with that night or any of their subsequent run-ins.

Besides, this hadn't started out personal; not on Lelouch's end—he hadn't even known who Dean was, after all—and Sam wanted to avoid making it so on his end, too. Even if it'd be way easy to turn it personal for the both of them under the current circumstances. Not to mention tempting, maybe because Lelouch was so much more readily accessible as an outlet than Lilith—but that was all the more reason to not go down that road. He didn't need the distraction and Dean sure as hell didn't need the risk.

[jouer-sans-voir.livejournal.com]

[skipping Lelouch by request]

Nunnally smiled at the mention of Sam's brother and his affinity for getting into trouble, but it wasn't quite as cheerful as before. She doubted that the unnamed brother's level of "trouble" was quite the same as what her older brother had done, but -- even if she'd started to become accustomed to Lelouch's presence here, the memories were still far too recent to easily forget. So many things could remind her of that, startle her out of the calm almost-acceptance into which she'd fallen simply because she had been so glad to see him again.

If she wasn't careful, though, he might notice that something had distressed her, so she calmly directed the subject somewhere else. "You've been here for a while, then?" Nunnally asked, allowing the new topic to excuse her small frown. "You were here in town last week? I've been told that people were stranded in town, come nightfall."

[boyking]

Something had changed, just the slightest, but Sam didn't quite have the chance to put his finger on it at the moment and it didn't seem important enough to contemplate further. He pushed it aside. Lelouch was still quiet, apparently determined to stay out of the conversation as much as possible.

Good to know the desire to ignore was mutual, then. One thing they had in common.

Or maybe more than one thing now, but Sam wasn't that interested in making a T-chart with Lelouch.

He studied her for a second or two, but nodded again. "I was here when everything broke down that night. It got a little crazy. Mind if I ask what you heard about it?"

He could just tell her, obviously, but it was weird launching straight into oh yeah, we were stranded with zombies and stuff, I think a bunch of people even got bit and tried to eat their friends. Wacky, huh. Though honestly, he didn't even know why it still made him hesitate, given where they were and all, but, well. Habit and all.

Anyway, might as well save himself from having to go into some exposition if he could. He'd covered the topic of zombies a few times already, even before arriving here, and he had to admit, as far as supernatural entities went, the walking dead were far from his favorite.

At least the ones raised during that night hadn't walked and talked like a real human being.

[kingside]

Lelouch hadn't quite finished with Nunnally's hair when the subject changed from older brothers to the events of last week, and almost immediately, his hands slowed and then stopped. Sam would have no trouble at all informing Nunnally what the night potentially had in store for them, and while Lelouch knew perfectly well that at this stage, keeping her unaware of it was probably more harmful than not, it was... he still didn't want her to know. Last week had been highly unusual, or so the knowledge he'd gathered about the institute suggested, and if that meant it wasn't going to happen again, what was the point of needlessly scaring or worrying her? If there was anything he could do to preserve what innocence his past actions hadn't already destroyed, then--

He glanced up at Sam, then back down at his sister's head. He could either stay silent and allow the conversation to progress, speak up and attempt to derail it, or speak up and actually contribute. The last option appeared the most attractive, in fact, because if he were to say something that gave him control over what was and wasn't discussed, he could at least insure that the level of exposure Nunnally had to this topic wasn't unnecessarily high while still instructing her about it. It wasn't exactly ideal, but as much as he wished it, he couldn't keep her entirely in the dark about their last visit here.

"That it was dangerous, many people were injured, and to expect this place to transform the same way the institute does," Lelouch answered for her, brow furrowing a little as he resumed his work. "I intend to move her somewhere safe before it becomes an issue, assuming it can at all. You needn't worry." He set the towel down and began, very gently, to comb her hair back into place with his fingers. He was beginning to regret returning the nurse's brush; tending to Nunnally's hair was exactly the sort of calming activity he needed right now.