milliways_bar | (no subject)

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As soon as the shower had started running in the motel's bathroom, Sam had seized his chance. He yelled something indistinct about lunch, grabbed his laptop and messenger bag, and headed straight for Milliways without waiting for Dean to answer.

Now he's sitting at a booth, the laptop open in front of him, staring at something on the screen.

(From time to time he stares at a note, instead.)

Either way, it doesn't look like he's making much progress.

[ooc: open until it scrolls, with a break at 9 MT for tonight's episode of Supernatural.]

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She waves a hand.

"Oh - yeah. That's right. 'Ding dong, the demon's dead' and all. Good job with that, by the way."

The remark is so matter-of-fact, it's hard to tell whether Ruby really gives a crap about Azazel's untimely demise.

"It doesn't change the fact that you're special," she says knowingly. And now she's looking a little more directly at him. "You know, in that Anthony Michael Hall ESP visions kinda way."

Sam makes a face at her.

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

Sam shakes his head.

"It does, though. Because I'm not. That stuff's not happening any more."

"No?"

She feigns a surprised look. It's actually pretty convincing.

"Either way," she says with a shrug, "I'm thinking you're still a pretty big deal. I mean ... after all that business with your mom?"

"It affects your flexibility, too."

X falls silent, giving Sam a quick once-over.

"But you could practice."

"My mom?"

He sounds like a damn parrot or a skipping CD, he knows, but he can't help it. He's off balance, and frankly feels as though he has been throughout this entire conversation.

"What about my mom?"

Well, that's to be expected.

Besides, it's kind of cute in a dumb, innocent puppy kind of way.

"You know -" And here's the important part. "- what happened to all her friends?"

His look is frankly skeptical.

"Practice plumbing?"

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

It sounds petty even before he says it. It would sound petty even if it weren't for the fact that he's talking to Sam.

(Because: he's entirely aware that it wasn't just him. it wasn't even primarily him.

He wasn't even important enough to her to be the main person she was lying to.)

He nods instead, looking down at the tabletop.

"Bending," X says, very seriously.

"And stretching."

Beat.

"And splits."

Sam just stares at her.

Her eyes stay on the table.

"I didn't know - no one else knew."

There's a long pause before she thinks of anything else to say.

"But now I do."

"... I think I'll pass on that, thanks."

Silence, for a few seconds.

"... for what it's worth," Sam says, finally, "I think you're right."

Oh, and her look now is sympathetic.

"You - don't know." An exhale. "It seems you've got a little bit of catching up to do, my friend. You should look into your mom's pals."

"Okay."

X says that very easily.

"But I think it is useful."

Beat.

He looks up. "About what?"

"Wait. Wait."

He shakes his head as if trying to clear it, and stares at her again.

(He has no idea how it makes him look a little lost.)

"I don't get it. How do you know anything about my mom? Who are you?"

"... about Ava. You didn't..."

He breaks off there.

"Oh. Gotcha."

A long, long beat.

"And you're wondering if you should... tell people about her?"

His stare is met with hers.

She leans back, arms crossed over her chest.

"I already told you," she reminds him. "I'm -"

"About her not doing it again," he says.

"Especially if she doesn't feel she doesn't have a choice, maybe."

"--a good hunter, yeah, right, I got that part," he interrupts.

"It still doesn't explain it."

"Stretching, maybe. But I'm kinda too tall for the gymnastics thing."

The ache is sudden and sharp and completely unexpected.

He swallows, trying not to show it. "Yeah."

"It helps when you fall, too."

Beat.

"You do not have to do handsprings. And aerial kicks would make you vulnerable."

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