Sam Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likely_evil) wrote2009-04-01 10:23 am
likely_evil) wrote2009-04-01 10:23 am
Two is always greater than one... remember that...
ooc: for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
50prompts # 7: Tabula Rasa (Blank Slate).
Sam Wesson sat in the library, his pen tapping a fast beat on the desk while he was looking through a stack of books. Researching. Trying to figure out where he was going to start in this madness of becoming a "hunter".
The Ghostfacers' website only gave so much information. The internet itself offered a lot more, but unless you know what you were really looking for, it was almost impossible to find real facts. This elusive "hunters network" didn't seem to have made it to the technical age, apparently.
So he was on his own to figure this out. However, it just didn't feel "right" doing it alone. Hell, it was probably dangerous to do it alone. Who would have your back when it got down and dirty?
Sam kept thinking of the guy from the office - Dean Smith. But the guy had turned out to be a total douchebag and chose the safe and comfy lifestyle for being in the field. And then a day later was trying to piss him off by saying Sam's real last name was Winchester and that his life wasn't real, but his dreams were.
And of course pulling a bunch of people in on the gag too.
He tossed the pen down and ran a hand through his hair. And even with how much the bastard annoyed him, Sam still wanted to convince Dean to do this hunting with him. It felt right. It was the only way he knew he would be safe. There was something about Dean that was comforting in that knowledge.
Sure, I can do this on my own... but I don't want to. I want Dean with me. We're a good team. Even if he is a jerk.
"Hello, Sam."
Sam's head shot up and he looked at the man who sat across the table from him. "Mr. Adler? What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, son." Mr. Adler gave a bright smile.
"If it's about the phone..."
"No, no. Everyone gets moments of frustration at their job. Phones are replaceable." Mr. Adler reached across to put his hand on top of Sam's. "It's good men who are irreplaceable. I'd like to offer you back your job."
"At the IT cube farm? No, I'm sorry..."
"I was actually thinking about making you a supervisor." Mr. Adler reached into his pocket and pulled out a check that was made out to him with a nice figure with a few 0's on it. "This would just be a sign-on bonus. Incentive to come back. You had the best call ratio of the entire team, and we could use someone with your work ethic to lead them."
Sam looked at the check. It was very tempting.
"Now, I know you and Dean had a bit of an... incident... the other day. And it's been making you rethink your life's goals. But I know you, son. You're a very young, ambitious man. You're going to want to wife, kids... whole nine yards one day. And what I'm offering you is a big step into that white picket fence world."
Sam held the check a moment, then shook his head and handed it back. "Sorry, sir. I just... it doesn't feel right. It's not what I'm supposed to be doing."
Mr. Adler kept the check on the table and looked at Sam. "And this? This ghost hunting thing. That's what you feel you should be doing?"
"Yeah... I know it sounds crazy..."
"It does. And alone, you're just going to get yourself killed."
"I want Dean to come with me... but - he just doesn't seem that he's strong enough in the end. Talking about health insurance, and afraid to take risks... I might be better off without him. But..."
"But what?"
Sam leaned back in his chair. "It doesn't feel right without him. It feels like this is something we need to do together. That if I try and go it alone, I'm just inviting disaster."
"Even if he's weaker than you?"
Licking his lips, Sam sighed. "Maybe. Maybe he's not as weak as he looks. Maybe there's something he hasn't shown me yet. Something that compliments me that makes us just fit together. I mean, I'm not a pillar of strength myself. I like to think so... but I know I'm not. I need someone to have my back, and it feels like it should be him, and not anyone else."
Mr. Adler smiled. "Good to see you worked that out on your own, Sam." With that, he leaned forward and put two fingers on Sam's forehead. A moment later, Sam pushed his chair back, glaring at the angel in front of him.
"What the hell..." He looked down at his oxford shirt, then at the angel across the way from him. It had to be an angel - he had been on the receiving end of a few of Castiel's little forehead taps to know that. "Who are you?"
"Zachariah. And that, my boy, took far too long. You're brother is quite angry at me."
Sam's eyes moved as he recalled the last few days with Dean and groaned. "He's not the only one. Why did you do this to me?"
"You had a lesson to learn, Sam. I hope it's something you will continue to remember as the battle continues in the coming months."
"What lesson is that?"
Zachariah stood up, smirking a bit in a bright and chipper manner. "That no matter how strong you think you are, you're still not able to do this without your brother at your back."
Sam went to speak, but Zachariah held his hand up. "I've already gotten the threats from your brother, so there is no need to repeat it. And contrary to his demands, this was something you needed to figure out on your own, Sam. Life's lessons aren't just handed to you - you have to get them yourself."
"And you guys wonder why we are losing faith in your. First Uriel, now this?"
"We are perfect in the eyes of our creator, Sam. Not in the eyes of man. That is where your faith has been misinterpreted. Did we harm you? Did I do nothing more than show you a path that he had started to stray from?" Zachariah looked at Sam carefully. "You should show respect that we helped guide you back to the light - if you can even see it anymore through the darkness you've sucked into your own soul."
Sam looked at the table, but didn't say anything. Zachariah smiled. "That's a good boy. Now why don't you give your brother a call and let him know you're back to normal and ready to work with him again. I'm sure he will be very relieved."
"I bet." Sam scowled. "But what gives you the right..." he looked up, but the angel was gone. He resisted the urge to scream in frustration - he was in a library after all - and instead shoved his laptop in his bag and went to the door, pulling his phone out.
For almost a month he had been given a new life by the angels, his slate wiped clean except for what nightmares bled through. Now that he had it back... things didn't look exactly the same anymore.
50prompts # 7: Tabula Rasa (Blank Slate).Sam Wesson sat in the library, his pen tapping a fast beat on the desk while he was looking through a stack of books. Researching. Trying to figure out where he was going to start in this madness of becoming a "hunter".
The Ghostfacers' website only gave so much information. The internet itself offered a lot more, but unless you know what you were really looking for, it was almost impossible to find real facts. This elusive "hunters network" didn't seem to have made it to the technical age, apparently.
So he was on his own to figure this out. However, it just didn't feel "right" doing it alone. Hell, it was probably dangerous to do it alone. Who would have your back when it got down and dirty?
Sam kept thinking of the guy from the office - Dean Smith. But the guy had turned out to be a total douchebag and chose the safe and comfy lifestyle for being in the field. And then a day later was trying to piss him off by saying Sam's real last name was Winchester and that his life wasn't real, but his dreams were.
And of course pulling a bunch of people in on the gag too.
He tossed the pen down and ran a hand through his hair. And even with how much the bastard annoyed him, Sam still wanted to convince Dean to do this hunting with him. It felt right. It was the only way he knew he would be safe. There was something about Dean that was comforting in that knowledge.
Sure, I can do this on my own... but I don't want to. I want Dean with me. We're a good team. Even if he is a jerk.
"Hello, Sam."
Sam's head shot up and he looked at the man who sat across the table from him. "Mr. Adler? What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, son." Mr. Adler gave a bright smile.
"If it's about the phone..."
"No, no. Everyone gets moments of frustration at their job. Phones are replaceable." Mr. Adler reached across to put his hand on top of Sam's. "It's good men who are irreplaceable. I'd like to offer you back your job."
"At the IT cube farm? No, I'm sorry..."
"I was actually thinking about making you a supervisor." Mr. Adler reached into his pocket and pulled out a check that was made out to him with a nice figure with a few 0's on it. "This would just be a sign-on bonus. Incentive to come back. You had the best call ratio of the entire team, and we could use someone with your work ethic to lead them."
Sam looked at the check. It was very tempting.
"Now, I know you and Dean had a bit of an... incident... the other day. And it's been making you rethink your life's goals. But I know you, son. You're a very young, ambitious man. You're going to want to wife, kids... whole nine yards one day. And what I'm offering you is a big step into that white picket fence world."
Sam held the check a moment, then shook his head and handed it back. "Sorry, sir. I just... it doesn't feel right. It's not what I'm supposed to be doing."
Mr. Adler kept the check on the table and looked at Sam. "And this? This ghost hunting thing. That's what you feel you should be doing?"
"Yeah... I know it sounds crazy..."
"It does. And alone, you're just going to get yourself killed."
"I want Dean to come with me... but - he just doesn't seem that he's strong enough in the end. Talking about health insurance, and afraid to take risks... I might be better off without him. But..."
"But what?"
Sam leaned back in his chair. "It doesn't feel right without him. It feels like this is something we need to do together. That if I try and go it alone, I'm just inviting disaster."
"Even if he's weaker than you?"
Licking his lips, Sam sighed. "Maybe. Maybe he's not as weak as he looks. Maybe there's something he hasn't shown me yet. Something that compliments me that makes us just fit together. I mean, I'm not a pillar of strength myself. I like to think so... but I know I'm not. I need someone to have my back, and it feels like it should be him, and not anyone else."
Mr. Adler smiled. "Good to see you worked that out on your own, Sam." With that, he leaned forward and put two fingers on Sam's forehead. A moment later, Sam pushed his chair back, glaring at the angel in front of him.
"What the hell..." He looked down at his oxford shirt, then at the angel across the way from him. It had to be an angel - he had been on the receiving end of a few of Castiel's little forehead taps to know that. "Who are you?"
"Zachariah. And that, my boy, took far too long. You're brother is quite angry at me."
Sam's eyes moved as he recalled the last few days with Dean and groaned. "He's not the only one. Why did you do this to me?"
"You had a lesson to learn, Sam. I hope it's something you will continue to remember as the battle continues in the coming months."
"What lesson is that?"
Zachariah stood up, smirking a bit in a bright and chipper manner. "That no matter how strong you think you are, you're still not able to do this without your brother at your back."
Sam went to speak, but Zachariah held his hand up. "I've already gotten the threats from your brother, so there is no need to repeat it. And contrary to his demands, this was something you needed to figure out on your own, Sam. Life's lessons aren't just handed to you - you have to get them yourself."
"And you guys wonder why we are losing faith in your. First Uriel, now this?"
"We are perfect in the eyes of our creator, Sam. Not in the eyes of man. That is where your faith has been misinterpreted. Did we harm you? Did I do nothing more than show you a path that he had started to stray from?" Zachariah looked at Sam carefully. "You should show respect that we helped guide you back to the light - if you can even see it anymore through the darkness you've sucked into your own soul."
Sam looked at the table, but didn't say anything. Zachariah smiled. "That's a good boy. Now why don't you give your brother a call and let him know you're back to normal and ready to work with him again. I'm sure he will be very relieved."
"I bet." Sam scowled. "But what gives you the right..." he looked up, but the angel was gone. He resisted the urge to scream in frustration - he was in a library after all - and instead shoved his laptop in his bag and went to the door, pulling his phone out.
For almost a month he had been given a new life by the angels, his slate wiped clean except for what nightmares bled through. Now that he had it back... things didn't look exactly the same anymore.