† SAM WINCHESTER (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
upstairsbrain) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull2012-08-01 12:05 am
upstairsbrain) wrote in sirenspull2012-08-01 12:05 am
† THREE [voice] - backdated to about the 16th.
[ Well, he's taken some time to mull over what Magento told him about his time in the Port: the time he doesn't remember. And thinking it over, trying to reason it out, searching for a shred of memory to explain why he'd done it... nothing like that had worked. So, finally, the younger Winchester comes over the feed, his voice almost jerky, mechanical. To many, it may seem like he's just tired, but to those who know him well... ]
Sorry about being M.I.A. If anyone needs me, I'll be around. I'm taking a sort of--
[ He trails off, and then clears his throat. ]
... Anyway. I'll be back soon.
[Private to Dean Winchester:]
I'm not going to be at home for a few days. Don't tell Mom, alright? I don't want her to worry.
[Private to Castiel:]
Can we talk? In person?
Sorry about being M.I.A. If anyone needs me, I'll be around. I'm taking a sort of--
[ He trails off, and then clears his throat. ]
... Anyway. I'll be back soon.
[Private to Dean Winchester:]
I'm not going to be at home for a few days. Don't tell Mom, alright? I don't want her to worry.
[Private to Castiel:]
Can we talk? In person?
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[His tone changes slightly, some combination of exasperation and anger, because Magneto had no right to tell Sam about this. Not after what he'd done, after the fears Castiel has about what he told him, and more simply just because he doesn't have the whole picture. But he doesn't go into anything about that with Sam just yet.]
You needn't make up for it. It won't happen again.
[So they can just move past it, or try to. It's easier said than done sometimes, but that isn't Sam's fault. Not this Sam, anyway.]
Do you want to know exactly what occurred?
[He'll tell him if it will help; if it won't and Sam doesn't want to know, he won't.]
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Does he want to know exactly what happened? Yes. Absolutely. Something holds his tongue momentarily, as a tiny part of his brain reasons out what sort of impact the knowledge will have on him. He was only told part of the story? What else had he done? And could he handle it?
... Of course, dammit, he couldn't just... live in ignorance, going on like he had, like he hadn't done anything wrong. ]
Yeah. Can you tell me?
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[He gives a small nod, firmly, almost as though he's trying to convince himself as he answers. He's barely talked about any of this, because it had been a disaster; he's messed everything up and nearly ended up dead because of it, and Sam had nearly been lost completely. It had been an awful time, but this Sam deserves to know, and to hear it from him.
He just has to figure out how to start.]
When I arrived here, you were already present in the city and had been for a few months. The point in time you came from, you had just drank more demon blood than ever before, as part of a plan to defeat Lucifer once and for all.
I don't know how you were holding off the withdrawal symptoms, but you said that you were, and the point in time I had come from I was essentially mortal. We were living together for a time, until something began to affect you; it may have been the Core or another individual's power, I'm not certain. But it heightened your need for demon blood, I was the only supernatural being from our world you had access to.
[He says it all quietly, methodically, separating himself from the events. It doesn't make sense to him, even now, why this ordeal had been so upsetting after everything he'd gone through in his life, but it had.
He hesitates at this part of the story, trying to figure out how to put the next part. Finally, though, he just lifts his chin slightly, raising a hand to indicate a faint silver scar along the left side of his throat. He can't get rid of it with his grace no matter how hard he tries.]
You drank some of my blood; enough to realize it worked as a substitute for demon blood.
[And this is, unfortunately, only the very beginning of the story.]
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Sam swallows, nodding stiffly. ]
I'm sorry, Cas.
[ He says it again, quietly, though the angel's already forgiven him. Words aren't enough, but that's really all he can do right now. That, and listen, and try to understand. ]
... And then?
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[He says it quietly as well, before glancing away and taking another few moments before he speaks again. This is where things start to get really bad.]
A few months passed, and Crowley arrived. You and he struck a deal and Crowley agreed to provide blood for a time in hopes of lowering your need for it until you could go through withdrawal safely.
[Again he pauses, because he's still unclear on so much.]
I don't know what you believed, but as I understood you had come to the end of your supply and were beginning to suffer the symptoms of withdrawal, and there was too much risk to simply let it proceed. So I offered to extend the step-down process with my blood, instead.
[He's still not sure if Sam believed he was going to die like Castiel had, or if Sam had been using him from the beginning. It doesn't really matter now.]
This went on for several weeks, until I couldn't sustain it any longer at the current rate. Something, whether my blood or the amount of demon blood and the length of time, had begun to change your personality.
[And another pause before he continues, staring off over the ocean.]
When I attempted to lower the amount, you decided to kill me. I believe you intended to use the remainder of my blood to enhance your strength even farther in order to confront Lucifer; angel blood seems to grant more power than demon blood overall.
I escaped, and Magneto trapped you in his danger room to detox. However, before you did, it seems your symptoms disappeared completely. Our world's God is here, and it was likely His doing.
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His expression is suddenly shocked, and he takes an involuntary step. ]
God? What-- are you serious?
[ Of course he is; Cas doesn't joke. But, they'd doubted God's existance, and now... he was here, in the Port?
Abruptly, Sam wondered if his brother had gone after the deity yet, cursed him for everything they'd been through. He hoped not. ]
... I don't know what to say. [ It's true. His expression is just about wrecked. ] There's no way to make up for it, I know. Especially when I don't remember it. But, Cas, I swear, I wouldn't... I'd never, not even to stop Lucifer.
[ And, Crowley? He didn't even know Crowley. ]
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Yes. I had heard rumors that He was here, but He later contacted me and confirmed it.
[He had never spoken to or seen His Father, and receiving a real sign from Him had been an incredible experience. He was also pretty certain it had been his Father that had spoken to him while he'd been comatose from an illness a few months ago, but he didn't have confirmation.
He's quiet, watching Sam's expression, and it's not difficult to read just how upset he is about what happened. It's not fair for him carry the burden of this--something he'd never actually done himself--and that's why Castiel hadn't wanted him to know at all.]
I know, Sam. It's alright.
[If he keeps saying it, maybe Sam will believe it. And it's true; Castiel hasn't gotten over it, really, but it's also not this Sam's fault. The situation would never been repeated, and the same mistakes wouldn't be made. It was over and done with and there's no reason for Sam to carry guilt, and Castiel doesn't blame him for any of this.]
We were both at fault, for different good intentions.
[Sam, as twisted and dark as he'd become, had been wanting to defeat Lucifer and was simply taking an ends justify the means approach. And Castiel had made a bad decision, to offer to supply him in the first place, but he'd done it to try to save Sam's life.
They'd both made their mistakes, and they were even, and this new Sam certainly doesn't deserve any blame.]
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Sam's expression softens, as if this tangent has sobered him up a bit, lessened his grief, slightly. ]
Alright. [ It leaves a sour taste, saying that it's fine, when it isn't. But, Castiel's taken the time to try and assuage his fears, to explain, so... he has to try, too. ] Alright.
Thanks for coming. [ He nods, firmly, furrowing his brow. ] At least... it's over now, right? And you're okay.
[ He hopes, anyway. ]
... Am I missing anything else, or...?
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[He's not stuck half-mortal anymore, and he's able to heal himself and fly and do everything else he should be able to. The memories and stress just add to a long list of others, and he can deal with it.
He considers Sam's last question a moment, before giving something of a half-shrug of one shoulder.]
Magneto isn't supposed to speak with you. I told him I would kill him if he came near you or any of my other friends.
[That counts as 'anything else' he's pretty sure.]
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--Don't kill him. [ He says, and quickly adds: ] Please. I'm the one who agreed to meet up, to hear what he had to say. It's half my fault.
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[Long enough to move on, for the most part, even if he just sort of has to ignore what happened to do so. That's no different than anything else that's happened in his life.]
You didn't know.
[But he also doesn't look like he's about to fly off and kill anyone, either. He's just tired of this; of being afraid that Magneto's going to hurt one of his friends like he did before, and tired of fighting. He's in a lose-lose position and he knows it, and it's just another thing he has to figure out what to do about.]
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I know I shouldn't have been trying to figure this all out without talking to you guys-- I get it. This is what's happened, and I did it to myself. Just...
[ There's a half-shrug, and a helpless sort of look. ]
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[And surely not representing himself as a friend, as he surely had. Or talking about something that wasn't his business to begin with.]
You had reason to want to know. I don't blame you for doing so, and neither should anyone else.
[And a small pause, because he feels that he owes a bit of an explanation as well.]
I didn't want you to know because it is not your responsibility. You should not carry the weight of what happened.
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Regardless. ] ... I didn't know. [ He swallows. ] Sorry, Cas.
[ Yikes. What else isn't he aware of? Everything, clearly... ]
I'm just trying to do what I can. [ Sam shifts his weight from foot to foot. ] Maybe get a fresh start here, y'know?
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Stop apologizing, Sam.
[It's quiet, without any snappishness or feeling in genera, just kind of tired. This isn't Sam's fault, any of it, and apologies had been all he'd heard from the other Sam.]
I hope that you can. Your family should know better than to disallow that.
[Though Castiel doesn't like John and doesn't doubt he'll try to hold this over Sam's head. Mary he's sure will make an effort to start again, but he doesn't know if she'll be able to.
Dean, though, is Dean. At least Sam has him, here.]
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As Castiel's suspected, the way his family has been doesn't make things much better. John was the first one to bring this up, and Mary... she hadn't meant to, but her reaction had hit him the hardest. ]
I'll talk to them. Try to straighten things out, make them see that... I'm not that person. If I was, then, that was before. I've got a handle on this. I do.
[ On that darkness, that demon blood, pumping in his veins. He thinks... hopes, at least, that what he's saying is true. ]
... I'll give you some space. I just wanted to talk.
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People return from death here. He did.
[So it's not alright, but not as bad as it might have been. He nods slightly at Sam's words; he'd told them, Mary more than John, that the person who'd been here before hadn't been Sam for a long time. He doubts it will take long for this Sam to prove how different he is, because it's clear in everything about him.
He nods slightly, glancing up at the rapidly darkening sky, then back at Sam.]
Do you have time to get home?
[He can fly him, if necessary. He doesn't want Sam to get caught out in the Darkness.]
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Yeah, I'll be fine. [ He needs the time to finish up his musing. ] ... Guess I'll talk to you again, soon?
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[He nods once more, looking at Sam seriously for a moment before he speaks again.]
If you ever have need of me, call.
[Don't hesitate, or feel guilty, or question if it's okay.]
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[ Understanding... well, everything. The younger Winchester offers one last, firm nod, and then heads off, hurrying a bit to dodge the incoming Darkness. ]