milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[OOM: We can't afford for me to do the right thing.]

It's been a long time since he'd last really 'powered up,' as Ruby teases him by calling it. Sam can feel the effects twisting through him. Everything seems brighter, sharper, clearer; he feels clearer, stronger, ready for anything.

He can't sit still, and he sure as hell can't go back to the motel room until it wears off a little - Dean'll notice something's wrong in a hot second, and Sam doesn't want to lie to him unless he has to.

He pushes through the door to Milliways instead. Maybe he can walk it off there, at least a little bit.

[OOC note: Sam is currently riding a paranormal high due to the effects of ingesting demon blood. If your character would be able to detect that sort of taint, feel free to have them do so! Just don't expect him necesssarily to admit it.]

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"Teaching you to --"

Beat.

Hesitantly: "Azazel?"

Sam jerks back around to stare at him.

"What? No!"

His lip curls.

"No," he repeats, flatly. "He may have been the cause of them, but he sure as fuck wasn't my teacher for anything, even before Dean killed him."

"Oh. Well -- good."

Pause.

"... then who?"

"Her name's Ruby."

Sam meets his gaze.

"She's a demon."

His eyes widen again.

"A renegade?"

(As though it makes perfect sense.)

"Guess you could call her that, yeah."

Andrew gives a low whistle.

"Yeah."

Sam glances away again.

"Hard to believe, I know."

"Is she ... seriously trying to change sides, or does she just not want Lucifer released? Because I mean sometimes you get bad guys sabotaging each other, and they'll even help out the good guys in order to do it ..."

"She saved my life," Sam says, flatly.

"And she wants Lilith dead as much as I do. So."

"So could be either." Half a beat. "And she's the one teaching you how to use the power?"

He nods.

"And ... she's just going to trust that you won't use it to kill her? Or does she have some protection against it?"

Sam stares at him.

"What?"

He blinks back.

"What what? I'm just saying, if I heard there was some vampire teaching a Slayer how to kill vampires with her mind, that's the first question I'd ask. How does he know she won't use it to kill him."

He hadn't even considered it; had somehow overlooked what that must mean.

"... I guess she just trusts me," Sam says, slowly.

"I guess so."

A small smile. "Might be a sign that she's worth trusting."

Sam grins back at him.

"... So, uh," and he takes another paradox, "how's Dean feel about this?"

He shakes his head.

"He's not a fan."

Calling that an understatement isn't really strong enough.

A sigh. "I didn't figure."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam's question comes out a little flat, and the look he's giving Andrew now is suddenly wary.

"What? Nothing." Quickly.

And then, slower: "Just that your brother isn't always ... the most flexible. About this kind of thing."

"Dean knows what he's talking about."

It comes out short, sharp, and shockingly curt in comparison to the rest of their conversation. All the jittery energy around Sam vanishes in an instant, slammed down into a dangerous focus with iron force of will as he levels a flat look across the table at Andrew.

"He's got reason."

Visibly startled, Andrew draws back.

"No, I -- I'm not saying it's necessarily a bad thing."