[and then...nothing. A picture would have been reassuring. Or a story. Or a recording of something. But there's only silence, from an obviously drunk Slayer who doesn't exactly have a track record of being cautious.
[It had been three days since she'd left to take care of something "personal." Three days of silence before that first drunken text had appeared on Sam's phone. True, it wasn't entirely uncharacteristic for her to send him the occasional sloshed message, but this was a bit much, even from her.
It takes her several minutes to type out the names of the crossroads, just a little over the state border from the hotel where she'd left him and Dean. A couple of hours.
[there's no response. And, when he finally gets to the location she'd given him, it doesn't look very promising. It was the warehouse district of the city. This late at night, the streets were empty, the barred windows of the surrounding, shabby buildings dark. There didn't appear to be any sign of a Slayer, drunk or otherwise.
That is, unless he looked closely at the shadows at the mouth of a nearby alley. Slumped against the wall was a small, dark-haired figure with a large, motionless lump beside her. A lump that appeared to have claws.]
[ It's not what he wanted to see at all, but what did he honestly expect from this situation? She should have called for back-up, she shouldn't have been drinking if--if what, if there were monsters about? There are always monsters about, he knows how silly it sounds. But it doesn't stop him from pulling the Impala to a halt outside of the alley before he all but jumps out of the car. ]
Faith?
[ Definitely her, and definitely...something. He rushes over to her, all but ignoring the creature in lieu of making sure she's in one piece first. ]
[There was blood. A lot of it. But a quick check shows that nearly all of it isn't hers, other than a nasty looking gash on her left arm.
She didn't stir when he said her name, but she does instantly when he touches her. Jerking awake, her hand comes up to strike at whatever dared approach....and barely stops before striking him]
Sam?
[and then the throbbing headache catches up with her, more the fault of the alcohol than the creature lying dead at her feet.
...which was definitely not a pterodactyl. A demon, maybe (her kind), or some other type of monster. But not a dinosaur. Though, to her credit, it did appear to have wings]
...Fuck.
[hand dropping, her eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the brick wall behind her.]
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Sam Winchester | Supernatural
2. I find it simply astounding you spelled "drunken" wrong but "pterodactyl" right.
3. You came downstairs saying you were now "dressed to impress".
You were naked.
2
Shut up
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[and then...nothing. A picture would have been reassuring. Or a story. Or a recording of something. But there's only silence, from an obviously drunk Slayer who doesn't exactly have a track record of being cautious.
Be afraid, Sam. Be very afraid.]
1/??
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And?
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... ]
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FIN
ilu 1/3
no
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maybe
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Where are you?
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It takes her several minutes to type out the names of the crossroads, just a little over the state border from the hotel where she'd left him and Dean. A couple of hours.
...It could have been worse.]
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Well, hope Dean doesn't mind he's borrowing the car for the...night? Night. ]
Just stay in one place. I'm on my way.
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That is, unless he looked closely at the shadows at the mouth of a nearby alley. Slumped against the wall was a small, dark-haired figure with a large, motionless lump beside her. A lump that appeared to have claws.]
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Faith?
[ Definitely her, and definitely...something. He rushes over to her, all but ignoring the creature in lieu of making sure she's in one piece first. ]
Are you okay?
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She didn't stir when he said her name, but she does instantly when he touches her. Jerking awake, her hand comes up to strike at whatever dared approach....and barely stops before striking him]
Sam?
[and then the throbbing headache catches up with her, more the fault of the alcohol than the creature lying dead at her feet.
...which was definitely not a pterodactyl. A demon, maybe (her kind), or some other type of monster. But not a dinosaur. Though, to her credit, it did appear to have wings]
...Fuck.
[hand dropping, her eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the brick wall behind her.]