Summer of Sam

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

[ Summer of Sam: Ending B ]

Twenty minutes later, when he's washed his hands and put the kit away, Sam is standing in the bathroom again. Confident this time to complete his shave, since he'd threatened to tie Jo to the hotel bed and/or make her use the crutches in the car for the rest of the day - possibly tomorrow - maybe the next day if she didn't stay the hell on the bed at least until he'd finished putting their things to rights.

She's yelling at him, but only over the sound of the television and the water running over his razor. Got the books out, the notebooks, suggesting places to go, people to see. Things to check into. And maybe it's the afterglow talking, but it's the first time he's felt at all ready to address any of it.

"We're not going anywhere near Nebraska until it's been a week since I lied to your mom."



Well, there are still some things going unaddressed.

Comments

[tobeclosetohim]

"I love how you haven't figure out she's tracing us right now," Jo said. "Might even knowing exactly which square on the grid we are."

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, well, I'm not making it any easier on her than we have to."

There is a long pause followed by his leaning out from around the corner, frowning thoughtfully.

"And circling back to Nebraska as 'the last place she'd ever look' is too Hollywood for me to think it'd work."

[tobeclosetohim]

She meant more the phones.
John's and Dean's specifically.

Even if they traced rare, they'd turn up now and then as used, in places. Had that day with Warren. Great hackers could follow to some point. And depending what her mother was doing now that she knew Jo was here. So many depends.

"It's the last place on earth I think we'll figure out what's going on."

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

He loves how she thinks, after months of hiding from Bobby, he doesn't know how to block even an old number from the usual tracking techniques. And if it gets more complicated - well, he's thought about it.

Ducking back to the mirror to finish up, frowning a little at this new commentary. "At this point, it'd be stupid to count anything out. We're at square one.


"...no, four months ago we were at square one. Now we're at square negative six."

[tobeclosetohim]

"Well, we get new things to research. Walls and the iron."



She tries to make both of them lighter than pointed.

Mostly she's just trying to make them obvious, normal.

Where neither of them could and would and will ever be.

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

Right.

...right.

He came out of the bathroom again, towel over his hands, rubbing them dry. Rubbing the last of the water from his jaw. Not avoiding her gaze, but not looking at her either.

Wondering the some questions he's had for days.

What. Why. When. How.



"Well, the iron's easy enough."

Comes out quiet but not soft. Rumbled but not growled.

Fact. Truth. Things that can't be argued.

"So that's a starting point. But the walls... and whatever was at the grave. That's gonna be trouble."

[tobeclosetohim]

"Almost nothing's ever entirely brand new." Jo was pressing the edge of a bruise, but glanced up when his voice and steps got into the main part of the room.

Look, Sam, her expression reads. Still on the bed.

The rest is remotely passive, trying to be conversation casual.

"There might be something if we started looking into botched spells."

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

When he finally looked to her, casually as he tossed the towel to the empty bed, and caught her gaze, his own expression changed. The far-off pensive, weight of guilt lifted as his eyes narrowed and Sam examined her for a moment.

Her innocence is so much more suspicious than her sunny-smiled guilt.

"...yeah. We can do that." He took a seat on the far edge of her bed, frowning thoughtful with her toes near his leg. "Hard without knowing what the spell is though. And we're without a witch."

A hand lifts sharply, without looking at her. "And that wasn't a complaint."

So please don't blister his ears with Ruby curses.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo looks -- ironically -- quite smirkily .
Sam just apologized before she said anything.



"We could always locate one."

Witches were not demonskanks.
Well. Not always at least.

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

Sam nods, not looking up. Still frowning.

Blocked at the grave. Blocked at the Gate. Iron bars him back, but not Jo. There should be an argument here, make her promise, together or not at all. But the first three make him tired, not ready for a fight.

"You think Ruby was lying?"

[tobeclosetohim]

"Every time she opened her mouth."
There's a droll look for Sam.

Obvious as the dawn. Demon skank.

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

Sam...

Lifts a hand to rub his eyes.




"About the grave."

[tobeclosetohim]

About everything, Sam.
Jo's expression hardly changed.


Though she set hand around the curve of her knee.
Tapping her fingernails against the skin at the base.



"Probably." Beat. "At least that she didn't tell us everything."

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

"Demons take him, demons keep him in."

It's a mutter, thoughtful. With the realization that if it's true, a witch won't be powerful enough.

Sam drops his hands and frowns at the opposite bed. "Yeah, okay. I guess we need a witch."

[tobeclosetohim]

More things that might have answers.
Or at the least count out another possibility.



Her voice is closer to steel, even if it's low.
"If they can keep getting out, so can he, Sam."




Beat. "Someone new or someone old? You have a contact in mind?"
Or did she need to think of who would be least like to cause more problems.

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

There was silence. He thought he'd told her everything. He'd meant to tell her everything.

"Assuming he's trying. When he had his year... they told him trying to welch out of the deal would reverse it. He'd live but I'd be dead again."

Who knows what happens in Hell, what they've done to him. But there's no certainty Dean is even trying to get free.

"And the only witches I know," Sam continues in a sigh, sitting up to turn toward her, actually look at her with talk of Business, "would be tough to convince."

[tobeclosetohim]

The first part. That first part she's just going to hold inside.
Because the world loves to fuck with hunters. Especially demons.


Her lips thinned as she pressed them together, listening.

"I know one or two people." Not one she really wanted to contact. "They might have a suggestion for whoever was the closest to wherever we are now."

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

Melinda Schmooter has an unfortunate surname. Sam's of the opinion she also has an unfortunate career.

The witch part, not the psychic. He's assuming she didn't go looking for the latter.

The Impala is rumbling silent over asphalt, no music for the moment. Sam's just waiting for the next set of directions before they walk into a woman's life and kidnap her abilities.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo's restlessly tapping her foot.
Getting to be out of the hotel is amazing.
She'd like to walk and skip and run at this point.



But they have a plan. And a meeting. And a goal.
"There's a left when the road splits at Slater."

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

And her leg isn't healed. Which is maybe why the moment those days of rest were up, Sam insisted on the drive.

He imagines this is what people complain about when their children don't get enough Ritalin.


Nodding, he follows her direction, taking the left slow and casual. "How do you want to approach?"

[tobeclosetohim]

"Straight forward as we can manage."



Since they were asking a women to, hypothetically, look into hell.

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

Exactly.

"You want to take point?"

One woman to another. Or something.

[tobeclosetohim]

"Sure." Jo nodded. Tapping her foot still.

"Makes sense. I am the one who knows Joan."

[not-scully.livejournal.com]

"They're close? Joan and Melinda?"

And, more importantly, after a moment's thought:

"Do you want me to hang back while you talk?"

So he's not a looming stranger in front of a girl contemplating peeking into Hell.

[tobeclosetohim]

"Either way. You can feel her out for space and whatever when we see her."



"And it didn't sound like they were all Ethel n' Lucy, but she gave a rave review for Melinda being her go to, and the best she had for not talking after the fact," which had been one of Jo's main wants.