He hasn’t spoken to them, but they’ve been offering suggestions and he’s found himself taking notes without meaning to.
“Leviathan blood won’t work.” Lucifer says, like he’s trying to be helpful, as he lets the straw fall from his mouth and leans over to read Sam‘s notes upside-down. Sam grits his teeth and clenches his toes in his boots, tries to focus on the chatter around him and the ding of the service bell.
“He’s right.” Michael as he finishes chewing and places his burger down. “It can’t be done, Sam. You need to focus on the problems at hand; Crowley and the remaining Leviathan.” Same that’s-an-order tone his dad had used on them their whole lives, and something deep-rooted in him; either from decades on Earth or centuries in Hell, twitches to obey; to follow the command.
“Yeah Sam, you’ve got enough to deal with. Leave Dean where he is; he’s got his angel, you’ve got yours.” Grin as he draws whatever’s in the glass up through the straw again, and Sam tries not to vomit.
“The Alpha vamp, he’s out there.” He shouldn‘t talk to them, but he can’t listen to the running commentary silently anymore, seems his tolerance has slipped since Cas vacuumed the wacko from his brain.
“Riiiight, and you think he’s just gonna let you bleed him again. C’mon Sam, it’s suicide, and you know…” He leans over the table, and Sam can’t move back, can’t seem to move at all. “…that’s a mortal sin.” Whispered near his face, cold, cold breath hitting him with the smell of blood, and he jerks his head to the side.
“We wouldn’t be saying this to you if you weren’t already thinking it, Sam.” Michael says as he finishes an onion ring; tearing it precisely into thirds, eating them one at a time; freakish caricature of the holy trinity sitting on red vinyl and laminate tabletop. “We come from you. We are you.”
“No you’re not.” Words grating on his throat as he tries not to shout. “You’re whatever projections are left from the Cage, you aren’t me. Dean wouldn’t give up, neither am I. Now shut the hell up.” Thinks he probably gets louder toward the end, from the way the people at the counter are giving him a worried look.
“Oh Sam, of course Dean would give up. He left you with us, didn’t he? Went off and lived his apple pie life while we kept you company Downstairs.” So much pity and sympathy from this thing in his head, so many memories he doesn’t want.
“Dean wouldn’t want you to die trying to save him, Sam.” Michael points out, finishing the last onion ring.
“Who says I’m gonna die?” Trying to be snide with your own delusions has to be a bad sign, he knows.
“Uh, common sense. Us. You.” Lucifer ticking things off on his fingers as he lists them.
“I can do it. I know I can.” Focusing back on his notes, voice quiet but sure.
He’ll get Dean back, and then he’ll stop talking to them.
FILLED: Delusional/Hallucinating Sam. 4/4
He hasn’t spoken to them, but they’ve been offering suggestions and he’s found himself taking notes without meaning to.
“Leviathan blood won’t work.” Lucifer says, like he’s trying to be helpful, as he lets the straw fall from his mouth and leans over to read Sam‘s notes upside-down. Sam grits his teeth and clenches his toes in his boots, tries to focus on the chatter around him and the ding of the service bell.
“He’s right.” Michael as he finishes chewing and places his burger down. “It can’t be done, Sam. You need to focus on the problems at hand; Crowley and the remaining Leviathan.” Same that’s-an-order tone his dad had used on them their whole lives, and something deep-rooted in him; either from decades on Earth or centuries in Hell, twitches to obey; to follow the command.
“Yeah Sam, you’ve got enough to deal with. Leave Dean where he is; he’s got his angel, you’ve got yours.” Grin as he draws whatever’s in the glass up through the straw again, and Sam tries not to vomit.
“The Alpha vamp, he’s out there.” He shouldn‘t talk to them, but he can’t listen to the running commentary silently anymore, seems his tolerance has slipped since Cas vacuumed the wacko from his brain.
“Riiiight, and you think he’s just gonna let you bleed him again. C’mon Sam, it’s suicide, and you know…” He leans over the table, and Sam can’t move back, can’t seem to move at all. “…that’s a mortal sin.” Whispered near his face, cold, cold breath hitting him with the smell of blood, and he jerks his head to the side.
“We wouldn’t be saying this to you if you weren’t already thinking it, Sam.” Michael says as he finishes an onion ring; tearing it precisely into thirds, eating them one at a time; freakish caricature of the holy trinity sitting on red vinyl and laminate tabletop. “We come from you. We are you.”
“No you’re not.” Words grating on his throat as he tries not to shout. “You’re whatever projections are left from the Cage, you aren’t me. Dean wouldn’t give up, neither am I. Now shut the hell up.” Thinks he probably gets louder toward the end, from the way the people at the counter are giving him a worried look.
“Oh Sam, of course Dean would give up. He left you with us, didn’t he? Went off and lived his apple pie life while we kept you company Downstairs.” So much pity and sympathy from this thing in his head, so many memories he doesn’t want.
“Dean wouldn’t want you to die trying to save him, Sam.” Michael points out, finishing the last onion ring.
“Who says I’m gonna die?” Trying to be snide with your own delusions has to be a bad sign, he knows.
“Uh, common sense. Us. You.” Lucifer ticking things off on his fingers as he lists them.
“I can do it. I know I can.” Focusing back on his notes, voice quiet but sure.
He’ll get Dean back, and then he’ll stop talking to them.
He will.
--- END ---