December Chronicle [ closed ]

[outwear]

Who: Sam Winchester
What: Catch-all for getting settled, meeting those of acclaim, and preparing to get more involved.
Where: Cadens, Nocwich, Horizon
When: December
Notes: PM for starters; will match style.
Warnings: See headers in individual threads. Please mark appropriately.





So now that you've arrived, well, you wonder,
What is it that you've done to make the grade?

Comments

[outwear]

Sam doesn't bother to note the expected etiquette for the situation; social mores don't really exist for people like him (perhaps them both) except in some ceremonial vacuum, usually in view of public eyes. Here in the bunker the rendered comfort and familiarity demands less of that complexity, less civility which can be observed as Sam slides out one of the chairs and slides himself into it. His hands fold on the tabletop, elbows sprawled like wings along the length in front of him.

"I only bring it up because Dean can be a little nearsighted when it comes to people." Not that Sam is any better, and in saying as much, his fingers flex out straight like he's trying to stem the tide of whatever might come. "Which isn't an accusation. But he's been—" Lips pinching, eyebrows following suit, Sam folds his fingers back down and probes on: "—agitated. Have you noticed?" He gestures at Geralt needlessly, and adds, "I figured I'd ask, since you know him so well."

[gynvael]

Geralt's expression shifts when Sam says nearsighted—the appraising look on his face giving way to something closer to understanding. Maybe that's unexpected, where his reaction is concerned, but he can't quite begrudge the protectiveness in Sam. Even if, he thinks, it is a little misdirected.

Besides. They're all nearsighted, under the right circumstances. He's not immune, either.

"I've noticed." He also knows exactly the problem with Dean. As much as it isn't for him to grant the details, he equally doesn't want to get involved in covering for Dean. The line between omission and discretion is thin. Speaking to Jo was one thing. He'd had time to gauge the dynamic between she and Dean. Dean and his brother is another crack in the ice entirely, and not one he wants to step on blind.

Really, this would be simpler if Dean would tell everyone what the fuck was going on. Be done with it. He can't blame the man for avoiding the topic, but—it's beginning to bleed out past the point where people notice.

He sighs. "I confronted him not long ago. He eventually told me the truth. But frankly," Geralt continues, blunt but not unkind, "if he's not revealed it to you, then it isn't my place to say. You should ask him yourself. Or give him time to come around to it."

[outwear]

A measure of disappointment is tempered by Sam's general lack of surprise and he nods slowly as Geralt commits to a noncommittal answer. Sam, of course, feels he needs no more than those few details to understand a whole hell of a lot more about everything that's going on. And damn if he isn't both glad for it and frustrated by it, particularly since he's feeling ever more like he's stepped into all of this a (fabulous) hair too late.

Sam sighs, then, a hand pushing through his hair. "Thanks. For the insight," he says, haltingly, lips pressed into a straight line that could be a smile but probably measures equally as consternation. He leans back in the chair, exhibiting more comfort without actually feeling it. Despite his obvious concerns, one thing does become increasingly clear: Geralt is close enough to Dean that the trust between them is starkly mutual; Dean would never share a serious shortcoming, even pressed, if that weren't the case. 

"Is it possible we're exacerbating the situation?" Sam doesn't pause in including himself as a potentially unsettling influence.

[gynvael]

He gets the sense Sam is feeling his way around, but Geralt is frankly a poor option to do so with. His silence continues; he volunteers no further details. The curse is only their most recent stint of shit. Where he and Dean are concerned, there's a lot of ground to cover—and he doesn't want to get into it at the moment, the fact that he is rare to trust another person, rarer to trust another human who proclaims to be a hunter of monsters.

Dean is an exception. And having met Jo, now Sam—so far, Dean continues to remain one.

There is no we. His connection is with Dean and Dean alone. In the same breath Sam aims to include them as one, Geralt separates them again.

"I am not," he replies. Unhesitating, like he's never given the idea a second thought. "For you, I can't answer."

A beat. Sam, unlike Dean, is a little less straightforward to discern, full of carefully trimmed words. He finds himself backtracking to Dean can be a little nearsighted. Whether Sam meant his current remark to build on that or not—it's how Geralt reads it.

"You don't trust me around your brother."

[outwear]

Plenty of times Sam's felt shame for his part in the chaos and discontentment experienced by his brother, and having struggled so thoroughly in his own right, he makes no excuses for himself anymore (even if Dean makes excuses for him). Undoubtedly, there's a side of Dean, and consequently (as well as in addition to) Sam, that stops short of the appropriate due diligence when involving matters of the heart. Perhaps it's fortunate Geralt doesn't struggle in the same way — impressive, if nothing else.

"Dean handles himself," he explains, "and I've learned to respect that." In part. "But none of us are without influence. Or being influenced. 'A body at rest remains at rest unless an outside force acts upon it,'" Sam quotes, although he's fallen very far from the tree where Newton postulated such things (and never mind that Geralt doesn't know Newton from Adam [another "common knowledge" item which also presents as an Earthly thing perhaps entirely lacking in context]).

"I wouldn't be much of a brother if I hadn't considered it." It's almost presented unabashedly, although Sam has the good sense to lower his gaze in time with reaching out to twist one of the books around on the table so he can investigate the cover. The fact that he feels shy of what he says doesn't make it true, and despite his efforts otherwise, Sam expects to always struggle with the thought, at least in some manner. Dean will always be the better brother, but that doesn't mean Sam stops trying.

[gynvael]

Influenced by what? What, exactly, does Sam believe he will influence a fully grown man to do? Does he exude a corrupting aura?

An impatience is creeping up on Geralt, the kind where he does not seek to clarify someone's meaning because he's pretty fucking sure the answer isn't favourable either way. Even so, he's allowed a certain leeway. He's aware Sam is Dean's brother; he knows how people are about the ones they love. Not always the most reasonable. Besides, he isn't here to interfere with Dean's relationships nor make them more difficult. Fuck knows he can't explain the precise role Yennefer plays in his life, even after everything, nor does he ever care to.

Some things simply are.

For the first time, Geralt leans forward. If his tone was candid before, it's especially so now.

"You're concerned. I understand." He doubts this is a conversation Sam holds with Dean's human friends, though he doesn't care to raise that point. He is not interested in debating the nature of his existence in Sam's eyes. "Let me be clear: I've spent the better part of a century alone. That is the path my kind walks. I am not here because I want or need anything from your brother. I am here because he asked me to be, and he's earned my trust. That is all."

If Sam cannot accept this, then the person to take it up with is Dean. Not him.

<3333

[outwear]

There's no reason for Sam to doubt this — it fits the tone Dean had provided — but he struggles with allowing himself the relief of it. The part of him that feels responsible for the dearth of support in his absence, the part that believe no one can know Dean as well as his brother, doesn't allow for it. He shouldn't be threatened and doesn't have any right to be defensive, and yet he feels very much that way, particularly in the face of Geralt's nonchalance.

"Good." If he's relenting, there isn't a lot of heart in it, but some. He nods to himself. "That's what I wanted to hear," he tells Geralt, mostly with his eyebrows.

A moment later, he's back on his feet and carefully pushing in his chair. Fingers tapping against back, he seems to consider saying something else but eventually nods a second time and then dismisses himself without another word. He doubts Geralt will complain.