[ sam watches geralt consider this, and he knows he won't push. its another thing filed somewhere in the time they've had to learn about the other person. sam knows that geralt doesn't blame him, and sam's not quite at a point to move passed it, either. he will, he'll get there, but right now?

right now everything is still on edge, every one is still on edge, and sam's including himself in part of that. for now. (he just needs a couple more days - he always bounces back.)

so, at geralt's terms, sam barks a laugh. ] Yeah, alright. Deal. Dinner and dessert and I'll bring a fancy bottle of whiskey too.

[ and that will be that; they will pick themselves back up and move on. silence follows the remark and sam, wrongly, believes the conversation over. geralt's next request has sam feeling much more sober, too, that grin dropping to a more serious look.

he nods. ] Yeah, I will. [ honestly, he was already planning on it - between the conversation he had with dean before this all got bad to now, sam should have probably checked in a bit more. but there's only so much self-blame sam can keep on himself if he wants to be able to do anything about it.

his eyes settle on geralt, though. for a beat, and then another. ] You haven't talked to him yet, have you?