All that Glitters

glitteringxgold:

A muscle in his jaw twitched. Sam had been trying to keep his temper throughout this whole interlude, he could admit this freely. There was only so much childish yelling he could endure before his own ire was stirred. The day had seemed to be going so well too. Up until this point that is. But now? Now he was annoyed. While his expression didn’t change much other than his lips thinning, the way his eyes flickered with orange-gold fire gave his emotions away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want someone to fight back, not that he was being accused of keeping the boy prisoner, his lair being called an island, but that his treasure, the one he’d chosen, was being so vary obtuse about himself. He wanted to believe he was nothing and nobody, that he wasn’t worth someone thinking he was a precious find in the sea of nothing but muddy humans going about their little lives. It was that he refused to believe he’d see him as anything but a toy or good company or a pawn in his chessgame. He’d offered to allow him to leave if he but took care of himself and still he refused out of spite.

He’d set an ultimatum, and Sam had given him his choice. So instead of answering verbally Samuel prowled forwards and snatched at the human, hauling him under his arm as if he weighed little to nothing, and toted him bodily out of the room, ignoring his protests. Though his lair was lavishly decorated, there were a number of sections that remained empty for future treasures, for when the rooms being used were full to capacity and were at risk of having precious valuables topple and break. That was where he traveled, through caverns and along hallways, until the torches grew sparse and far between, darkness laying in thick clusters against stone corners.

Sam opened a door and thrust the other into one of these storage rooms along with a blanket he’d picked up along the way. The air was chilly with so much stone and so little insulation. There were a handful of worn banners in the corner that were god knew how old, but they were in such a sorry state the items were hardly worth mentioning.

“You want to be alone? Your wish is granted.” Sam blazed, his eyes casting more light then the nearest torch along the wall. “You are…what was it you humans call it these days? In a….time out?” If he had a tail, it would have lashed as he shut the door. “Inform me when you are ready to be reasonable.” Sam snarled through the wood. Even if he was pretty sure the human wouldn’t be able to escape, he still set the iron bar against the door to ensure it could not open….mostly because temper was sitting hot in his stomach. While he didn’t wish to take it out on the man physically, doing a small, unnecessary action such as this to emphasize his point made him feel a little better.

Sam could tell it was a bad idea before he finished talking, that he should have shut his mouth instead of going off yet again. A bad temper and aiming it all at a dragon? Very bad idea that he was regretting before the other moved towards him. It probably didn’t help when he started cursing his protests either, voice bouncing off the walls of the cave as he was carried to wherever the hell the dragon wanted him now. As if he could really do any harm to the guy like this, not isn’t like he’s an unarmed human or anything. Oh, wait.

The Winchester only got quieter once the lighting dimmed, and he stopped trying to squirm free as it only served to hurt him at this point. More than likely he had already managed to bruise himself up trying to escape, what good was it to waste even more energy? Samuel was never going to let him off this island, no matter what he did. Dean was going to wonder where he was and be pissed to hell and back because he never called, and who knows if Cas could actually find him here. Suddenly, the darkness was more terrifying than it ever had been since he was a child, and by the time he’s been deposited in whatever remote part of this place the dragon had chosen for him, the tears are back and threatening to spill.

“Don’t leave me in here!” he demanded stupidly, not even back on his feet yet before he’s trying to get himself out, pushing uselessly at the door. He barely managed to not make a sound of despair when the bar was slammed into place, though it startled him enough that he flinched pretty obviously. He wasn’t going to let a door stop him, he decided, and reached between the bars to curl his fingers in the other’s tunic. “Don’t leave me in here. I don’t know how solitary you are, but I can’t…Please, I can’t be alone,” Sam admitted, voice breaking despite his best attempts to keep it from happening.

“You’ve been letting me scream at you, and with the exception of taking me back, you’ve given me space for what I wanted,” he huffed out, only looking away from the other when he thought the tears were going to finally spill over, and he released the fabric that had been bunched between his fingers. “I’ll be nicer, just please don’t leave me locked away,” he said more weakly, leaning against the door. “Please, please, don’t.”

The door was thick and wide, but shorter than his bedchamber doors. As these were mainly storage rooms he hadn’t made the effort to widen the cambers nor the corridor large enough for his dragon form. As it was the ceiling was very low compared to the rest of the lair, only a scant couple of inches higher than the tips of his fingers if he were to reach skyward. When his rooms were filled he had a tendency to leave all his doors open or to get rid of them altogether so both he, his cats and any companions could roam freely. Samuel had forgotten there was a barred window in the wood because of this, and before he could turn away a hand caught in the shoulder of his tunic, halting his hasty retreat.

Instinct called for his to snarl and pull away, but the way Sam’s voice broke welled sympathy among his ire, leaving him far more aggravated than angry. So now that he was away from the light and the luxuries he no longer wanted to be alone? How convenient, to insult all around him but still expect it’s comforts. “You had no complaints with being alone before.” Sam pointed out, eyes glittering in the dim light. Dragons were solitary, yes. But Sam had also requested to be left by his lonesome, and at this moment that seemed the most attractive option.

He couldn’t see much of his treasure through the small barred square in the door, his eyes, the tips of his fingers, most of his nose. Even so, Samuel stepped farther away from the makeshift cell, lest the other catch him again and tear down his defences. The human had to know he would do much for him by now, and he had no wish for Sam to abuse that notion. He would not be treated as such by someone who did not return the sentiments.

“I have attempted to be patient with you, and we seem to have reached a stalemate. You are determined to dislike me, and I am committed to your happiness and protection. One of us will have to change their view, fortunately I am older, and have far more time to commit to the matter.” He didn’t point out he’d been willing to take Sam back...until things had gotten so out of hand. “You have expressed distain in all I hold dear, so I have afforded you as little of it as possible. With your rash decisions you have put your health at risk and aggravated me in the process, for now I am the one who does not wish to be in your presence.” Sam furrowed his brow and turned his head to gaze up the passage, wanting to release some of his temper with a long, hard flight. “I am sure you would agree some time apart to clear our heads would be wise, and at this time trusting you in my home alone would be foolish.” Sam’s voice quieted. “Perhaps you will consider all I have said to you while you are here.”

glitteringxgold:

A faint smile marred Sam’s set-in frown, fond memory lingering around the corners of his mouth, his eyes. “Yes, but you appreciated what you had far more after working for it. The dirt is far easier to get used to compared to the smells.” So far he hadn’t crossed many unpleasant ones here, but he hadn’t experienced a full 24 hours as of yet, so perhaps he would withhold on his opinions for now.

Sam sighed. He didn’t know what a cowboy was, but he supposed he could guess if he tried. And a sheriff was…someone Dean held in high esteem? As for a teevee or radio, yet more things to learn, and suddenly he wanted to take a nap just to get away from all of this change. “I am used to the pace of yonder.” He replied, wondering suddenly if that was a reason for his companion’s easily angered temperament. A slow pace encouraged an easygoing frame of mind. He had a suspicion trying to accomplish things too fast in this time would leave his buttocks clenched for three days from the stress. An example could be said of the way Dean attempted to read a map and continue what he was doing at the same time, rather than coast to the side of the road for a proper look at the paper.

Sam rolled his eyes, but decided his chiding could wait for another day. He wanted to get out of this gods-forsaken ‘Car’ already. He’d been very studiously not thinking about how he would have flown if given the chance, how wonderful it would be to stretch his wings after all this sitting about in such a small space. If he fixated on it the need would itch at him until he gave himself away. No, instead he consoled himself with the thought of the upcoming battle, as small as the fight was— with the anticipation of seeing the back of this horseless cart for as long as possible. All night, if luck was on his side.

“Are we still to fight?” He asked curiously, for if they were in a hurry he saw no need to prove his skill at the sword, they could wade right into the fray and he could remove some of the tension that had been building from his observations, his concerns, sitting in one place for so long.

“Yeah, course we are.  I told you, it’s my job.  Without pay,” he added, giving his companion a look.  “And I’m still testing you first,” he added pointing at the guy.  The thought had crossed his mind to cuff him in the room, and take off to the nest on his own.  But the guy would bellyache for days, he was sure.

They finally reached the motel.  Dean went in to get a room, and then they moved their stuff inside.  “Bright side, they have two beds,” he said, trying to ignore the red walls, and lights, and bedspreads.  He had no idea what was going on with the decor.

“Why don’t you stretch your legs?  I’ll get the gear ready,” he offered.  He could tell Sam had gotten antsy in the car.  Not everyone was used to driving hours at a time.  “Or take a nap.  I’ll wake ya.”

(//if he sleeps, dean could cuff him to the bed and go off to the nest alone, lmao)

“I meant the ‘test’.” Sam pointed out wryly. After all they would not be taking this journey if the battle was called off. He still had to wonder though, how Dean of Winchester continued to work at his cause if he gained no payment. How was he to keep up his horseless ‘car’ or purchase meals? Perhaps the human took other jobs as well. Like a mercenary. If so he would understand why Dean hadn’t mentioned it yet. Or perhaps he solicited sexual favors for money. He had seemed very defensive about it when it’d been brought up earlier. And why else would he assume he was a male whore if he was not one himself? It was something to ponder on the last leg of their trip, as they pulled up to the next in and Dean departed to secure a room.

At long last Sam was permitted to exit the tiny space, and he blew out a relieved breath, taking deep lungfuls of fresh air and feeling the muscles that had grown tense with confinement ease as a breeze rippled his hair about his forehead. Yes, this was much better. This ‘car’ contraption was...interesting, but he was quite sure he would never enjoy it as much as flight. Or even sitting in a bumpy wagon.

“I like this room.” Sam announced in a booming voice upon entering their rented chamber, bags of new clothes in hand. This must be an inn that was doing very well, only the wealthy had so many scarlet furnishings. That they were afforded two beds was...something of a disappointment, but he hid it well. On the one hand, Sam did like the freedom to move as he pleased while sleeping. On the other— curling around Dean the night before had been exceedingly pleasant. Perhaps it was for the best, the human, for all his jealous actions today, seemed more embarrassed by what had occurred than anything else. If he changed his mind Sam wasn’t opposed to letting him slip beneath his sheets nonetheless...but if he expected payment he would have to state this beforehand.

glitteringxgold:

If one were on the ground rather than on his back, Sam knew that he was likely an impressive sight. Most of the cloud cover had faded under the bright beam of the sun, but even through the haze his scales shone bright, turquoise shining with gold and hazel, opalescent in the light. This man, this Dean let out a frightened sound from behind him, but as he could do nothing in the moment to ease his worries Sam put them out of his mind as they gained altitude, the trees seeming tiny below them.

From here he could see where Dean’s horse had fled, nearly back to the town. As he knew it was likely the other was attached to the animal, he decided to swoop down in a smooth glide and catch it in one claw before doubling back and making for his mountain. The man wouldn’t be able to ride the horse down from where they were going anyway, with it’s sharp cliffs and peaks. Only a dragon could fly into the entrances, not that any visited him, or knew where they were.

Even with the weight of the terrified horse, the trip back to his mountain took mere minutes, the speed of his species, his massive wingspan aiding their journey. Sam, for all his peace-loving, still needed to eat, and often flew to snatch livestock from wealthy farms. He’d fashioned a shallow pit out of his mountain for this purpose, open to nothing but sky, the rock on all sides higher than a human’s height, but still much like a ditch to a dragon. Sam could, of course, touch his mind to theirs and calm them, but he was never sure how long it lasted, and the animals, if they remembered, were  prone to being scared enough to pitch themselves off the edge of wherever he placed them and fall to their deaths…and he did not fancy having to catch the poor creatures. Hence the pit. He was quite proud of it, for all the simplicity. There were two doors leading into the lair so he might collect them in his human form, it was easier to manage things like reins or paddocks when he had hands.

He carefully dropped the horse into the pit, but didn’t land there. Leaving the horse to calm down somewhat he instead flapped to a nearby entrance and cantered inside. It resembled a cave from the outside, nothing but a crack in the rock of the mountain wall, not even a ledge to give anything away, but once you ventured deeper, leaving the warmth and sunlight of the day behind, pillars took shape from the dark rock of the walls, lining what amounted to a tunnel until you reached a massive door, which Sam pushed aside so he could enter his home, stark, gloom disappearing in an instant under the bright cheer of his many torches, the light glittering in the gleam of the treasure he’d carefully compiled and arranged. It was only one of many countless rooms, but still there were banners of old on the walls, gold glittering from every polished surface. Sam’s tail swished, shutting the door behind them to keep the shadows and the chill out, but he lowered himself to the floor before aught else, so Dean could slide off and take in the splendor of his left East entrance hall. He had many of those as well. He almost wished he’d come in his main door so Dean might be more impressed, but it had seemed a foolish notion when he’d been so close to a door already. If he’d known he’d have a sacrifice he would have made things more special, but alas. It would have to wait for another time.

Dean clung, his eyes closed as they flew so he didn’t have to see the ground or the world flying past him. His stomach already rolling from the sensation. The air whipped past his ears and drowned out all sounds around him as he tucked his face into the scales, the sensation was rough against his skin as he hid and did his best to ignore the fact that he was on the back of a dragon–possibly flying to his death with no way to stop it. 

He knew when they reached their destination–the air grew cold and the lights faded behind his eyes. He opened them slowly and slid down, the glittering gold around him startling his eyes side as he slid from the dragon’s back to the ground, legs shaking from the ride and the situation as he looked around. His jaw was open in surprise and awe as he turned on the spot.

Eyes moved from the room around them tot he dragon, his heart racing in his chest. “What—what do you want with me?” he asked, his voice echoing through the room around them.

Dean liked his treasure. Sam preened inwardly. He knew it was impressive, of course it was. But seeing it written on the other’s face was very nice indeed. The human was likely still recovering from the shock of being flown here, from his surroundings and his situation, so Sam didn’t change into his human form just yet, instead settled down and curled the massive length of his tail around himself, getting comfortable right there in his entrance hall.

Not shrinking to his human form was one thing, but not bring able to communicate verbally was a challenge as well, it was very difficult to form words with fangs and a snout. So, since Dean was in his lair already, he decided to converse mentally instead. If the human frightened further at least he had no way to escape, and they would be able to work on easing his fears. Slowly.

Sam’s recollections were a little muzzy. His last memory had been of waking to the smell of smoke and the sound of approaching yelling, urgency, anger. Determination. He’d needed to protect his companion, his chosen. Arrows had been a likelihood, so though he could not fly for the danger they had run, darting through trees and underbrush, panic in the dark, tasting the scent of bloodlust thick in the air chasing after them. Gaining, always gaining.

At last he had decided to take a stand, to fight to give his companion more time. The plan may have worked, after all his species were known for decimating scores of humans, this would be no different. It was then, unexpectedly, that he’d gotten a face full of pink powder, something that had made his eyes sting and his nose tingle, making his sneeze and reel.

I’m sorry.

Confusion, helplessness among words of power. He’d reached out, desperate to stop whatever was happening, to beg those sad green eyes to cease this, but his world was yanked out from under him, and he fell into a spiraling darkness, into an all consuming rush that pressed endlessly against his senses. He roared, but he could barely hear himself over the noise. There was nothing to grip, to hold on to. Perception went in and out, until he had to shut his eyes against it, feeling as if he had no control over anything, even his own mind.

As soon as it had started it stopped on a rush of pain. Time and space once again aligned itself around him, but the noise was still there, smashing, cracking as he toppled as if knocked out of the very skies until finally he landed with an almighty thump and a crackle of power.

The air crackled around him, sticking to his skin and making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end—scales coming to the surface and eyes changing as he looked up to the sky, bright blue lights lighting up in a way that most would confuse for a comet but he knew better—only a powerful sorcerer could manage lights like that. And those he hadn’t come across in a long time.

He groaned under his breath. At least he had to exert no effort into changing to his human form. Injured or not it was far easier to blend in, possibly gain aid in a world of humans if they thought him one of their rank. Sam had, before all of this, been traveling with his companion, and he’d refrained from utilizing his reptilian form. Searching back in his mind, he remembered waking, and he rarely slept outside of his lair as anything but human, so he could safely assume he’d remained so even now. Hopefully flying under the radar would assist him, at least until he returned to something resembling normalcy.

Nevertheless the man was his and that would never change.

Dragons of his ilk were fortunate enough to be able to not only change from human to dragon form, but also to soften or harden his scales at will. Now, even in his sacrificial valley, he was wary of attacks, and his hide was toughened, impenetrable to anything but the most carefully crafted blade. Even so Dean’s small hands on his scales was cause for pleasure, and Sam allowed himself to close his eyes for a brief moment, enjoying the short interlude. He hadn’t had a human sacrifice in some years, and contact garnered elsewhere never had quite the same feel to it. Dean’s touch was buffered somewhat, but once he let his guard down, allowed his scales to soften to a more sensitive state, it would feel all the better.

A long, warm whuff of air escaped him on a sigh. When Sam opened his eyes Dean was climbing onto his back, and he smiled a little, though he knew the human would not see it from his position. A rider on his back. Some might consider it an insult, but Sam had never seen taking his chosen for flights as something lowering. Perhaps he was odd that way.

Suddenly he was moving, body and armor sliding against the beast’s great body as he fought to hold on and not go crashing to the earth as feet left the ground far behind. He let out a sound of fear as he clutched the spines of the creature, a noise that was amplified by the sounds coming from the dragon. 

From here he could see where Dean’s horse had fled, nearly back to the town. As he knew it was likely the other was attached to the animal, he decided to swoop down in a smooth glide and catch it in one claw before doubling back and making for his mountain. The man wouldn’t be able to ride the horse down from where they were going anyway, with it’s sharp cliffs and peaks. Only a dragon could fly into the entrances, not that any visited him, or knew where they were.

Even with the weight of the terrified horse, the trip back to his mountain took mere minutes, the speed of his species, his massive wingspan aiding their journey. Sam, for all his peace-loving, still needed to eat, and often flew to snatch livestock from wealthy farms. He’d fashioned a shallow pit out of his mountain for this purpose, open to nothing but sky, the rock on all sides higher than a human’s height, but still much like a ditch to a dragon. Sam could, of course, touch his mind to theirs and calm them, but he was never sure how long it lasted, and the animals, if they remembered, were  prone to being scared enough to pitch themselves off the edge of wherever he placed them and fall to their deaths...and he did not fancy having to catch the poor creatures. Hence the pit. He was quite proud of it, for all the simplicity. There were two doors leading into the lair so he might collect them in his human form, it was easier to manage things like reins or paddocks when he had hands.

There was a long silence as Sam contemplated this, contemplated his charge. It looked like his human was determined not to eat, for he was putting off yet another meal in his determination. He did not like this.

“You have another to fit in with now.” He answered finally with a sigh. “If you are an outcast, we shall be so together. But you are not a ‘freak’, you are special, and I will not hear anything against it. You need not believe it about yourself. I have faith enough for the both of us.”

Sam sorely wished he was allowed to cross the space between them and hold the human in his arms, whisper words of comfort, but it would not be welcome, and he had quite enough upset for once day. “To be fair, I took you from no one. You were alone, and only intended to reunite. I cannot be held responsible for your decision to imbibe rather than proceed with your plan.”

“I have had a lifetime of believing it,” the hunter scowled, tone bitter. Maybe he had just needed to wake up before the attitude returned, or cool down from earlier and the kitchen’s heat was grating on frayed nerves. That had to be it. “We have a pattern, after a fight. We go separate ways, we drink, and then talk in the morning after sleeping. Next time you want someone who isn’t going to fight back, ask them. Being alone is not an excuse, for them or for you.”

The anger is definitely back, full-fledged agitation for the Winchester at this point and it’s some kind of miracle he isn’t fidgeting around or trying to just run; no, instead he’s standing here like he’s sixteen all over again and arguing with dad. What fun.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want someone to fight back, not that he was being accused of keeping the boy prisoner, his lair being called an island, but that his treasure, the one he’d chosen, was being so vary obtuse about himself. He wanted to believe he was nothing and nobody, that he wasn’t worth someone thinking he was a precious find in the sea of nothing but muddy humans going about their little lives. It was that he refused to believe he’d see him as anything but a toy or good company or a pawn in his chessgame. He’d offered to allow him to leave if he but took care of himself and still he refused out of spite.

He’d set an ultimatum, and Sam had given him his choice. So instead of answering verbally Samuel prowled forwards and snatched at the human, hauling him under his arm as if he weighed little to nothing, and toted him bodily out of the room, ignoring his protests. Though his lair was lavishly decorated, there were a number of sections that remained empty for future treasures, for when the rooms being used were full to capacity and were at risk of having precious valuables topple and break. That was where he traveled, through caverns and along hallways, until the torches grew sparse and far between, darkness laying in thick clusters against stone corners.

Sam opened a door and thrust the other into one of these storage rooms along with a blanket he’d picked up along the way. The air was chilly with so much stone and so little insulation. There were a handful of worn banners in the corner that were god knew how old, but they were in such a sorry state the items were hardly worth mentioning.

He still ran into problems more often than not, dragons had very different viewpoints than humans. But he tried, and it was the thought that counted, did it not?

The wing dipped down, revealing a spot that looked almost like he was supposed to ride. But that was crazy, there was no way the dragon wanted him to ride him. That wasn’t—

“You want me to–” Dean’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. “You want me to climb on your back?” he asked quietly before he took a step forward to see how the dragon reacted. His steps were slow until he reached its side and braced his hands on scales.

Nevertheless the man was his and that would never change.

Dragons of his ilk were fortunate enough to be able to not only change from human to dragon form, but also to soften or harden his scales at will. Now, even in his sacrificial valley, he was wary of attacks, and his hide was toughened, impenetrable to anything but the most carefully crafted blade. Even so Dean’s small hands on his scales was cause for pleasure, and Sam allowed himself to close his eyes for a brief moment, enjoying the short interlude. He hadn’t had a human sacrifice in some years, and contact garnered elsewhere never had quite the same feel to it. Dean’s touch was buffered somewhat, but once he let his guard down, allowed his scales to soften to a more sensitive state, it would feel all the better.

A long, warm whuff of air escaped him on a sigh. When Sam opened his eyes Dean was climbing onto his back, and he smiled a little, though he knew the human would not see it from his position. A rider on his back. Some might consider it an insult, but Sam had never seen taking his chosen for flights as something lowering. Perhaps he was odd that way.

The bags got pushed over the front seat and dropped into the back without any problem, and Sam settled himself in, taking up every inch of his half of the car. The impending journey seemed far more enjoyable when he was not cinched into a bursting tunic and covered with a bare scrap of cloth.

Nudity didn’t bother him in the least, but being clothed was a mite more comfortable, especially when he couldn’t fly or stretch his limbs out properly. These vehicles were very— small.

Tiny or not, their quest was spent without much farther event, Sam spending the whole time frowning at the window at what he saw and trying his best to ignore the horrible wailing coming from the little holes in front of him. The world had much changed from what he’d been used to. Some aspects he remembered. Trees, fields, livestock, crops. The houses were much larger, and what he assumed were farms…did not look much like farms at all. There were great wide roads that didn’t bump or jiggle the seat below him that stretched as far as the eye could see, and they traveled faster than any mere human had in his knowledge, not without being carried. Large signs, small signs, so many people and establishments. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all.

“Going forward has to be better than going too far back.  I went a couple hundred years back in time ones.  Don’t get me wrong, I had a blast playing a cowboy… a freakin’ sheriff.  But I think if I’d stayed for too long, it would have driven me nuts.  Everything was so much slower.  Dirtier.  Getting things done was harder, and no TV or radio,” he tapped his hand on the dashboard, near where the music was coming from

Sam sighed. He didn’t know what a cowboy was, but he supposed he could guess if he tried. And a sheriff was...someone Dean held in high esteem? As for a teevee or radio, yet more things to learn, and suddenly he wanted to take a nap just to get away from all of this change. “I am used to the pace of yonder.” He replied, wondering suddenly if that was a reason for his companion’s easily angered temperament. A slow pace encouraged an easygoing frame of mind. He had a suspicion trying to accomplish things too fast in this time would leave his buttocks clenched for three days from the stress. An example could be said of the way Dean attempted to read a map and continue what he was doing at the same time, rather than coast to the side of the road for a proper look at the paper.

Sam rolled his eyes, but decided his chiding could wait for another day. He wanted to get out of this gods-forsaken ‘Car’ already. He’d been very studiously not thinking about how he would have flown if given the chance, how wonderful it would be to stretch his wings after all this sitting about in such a small space. If he fixated on it the need would itch at him until he gave himself away. No, instead he consoled himself with the thought of the upcoming battle, as small as the fight was— with the anticipation of seeing the back of this horseless cart for as long as possible. All night, if luck was on his side.

“You have no idea what it’s been like, do you?” Sam strained in frustration, pretty sure he was going to upset himself into another fit if he kept going. Fine, so be it. “Everyone keeps taking me for their own plans, their own wants, and every time I fucking turn around there’s someone else not giving me a choice in what happens next in my life! You just up and dragged me away from my life and the one time I had an opportunity to make a choice myself, and you can’t get why I’m angry with you?”

Sam scoffed in derision, a very big swirl of entirely negative emotions at the moment, and ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I’ve been a freak my entire existence, got it? An outcast, someone who’s never been able to fit in with everyone else or escape what others have made me into, and you took me away from the one person who I could be comfortable with!”

There was a long silence as Sam contemplated this, contemplated his charge. It looked like his human was determined not to eat, for he was putting off yet another meal in his determination. He did not like this.

“You have another to fit in with now.” He answered finally with a sigh. “If you are an outcast, we shall be so together. But you are not a ‘freak’, you are special, and I will not hear anything against it. You need not believe it about yourself. I have faith enough for the both of us.”

Sam sorely wished he was allowed to cross the space between them and hold the human in his arms, whisper words of comfort, but it would not be welcome, and he had quite enough upset for once day. “To be fair, I took you from no one. You were alone, and only intended to reunite. I cannot be held responsible for your decision to imbibe rather than proceed with your plan.”

He was accompanied by the peddler from the change room to the front pay-stall, his towel dangling from his shoulder and a pleased grin gracing his features. Even with the new shirt and the boots that were surprisingly sturdy and startlingly soft  underfoot all he needed was a claymore and he would be ready to face any foe.

The man assisting him had already made a trip to the pay-stall with his purchases, and if he was being honest he hadn’t given a thought to the price until now. Generally, hoarding treasure didn’t see much of a need for penny-pinching. Nevertheless he reassured himself he would recompense Dean when he was able. For now he simply smiled widely at the obvious approval in the other’s gaze, the way his words were robbed of him, the slow lick of lips that he could tell meant far more than any other facial gesture might. Sam preened once more. The comment from the peddler put to words what he suspected Dean had thought, and as if to prove this, his companion seemed to take umbrage at the comment.

Sam chuckled, beaming first at one, then the other. “I thank you for your assistance, I would be lost without your direction.” He complimented the sales clerk, and scooped up all the bags in one hand without any trouble, or even any indication of if they were heavy. “We may yet be back in the future.”

"He was slow.  And talky, God, so damned talky.  And seriously, those goo goo eyes he was making at you was a bit much."  Wrenching his door open with more force than necessary, Dean got into the Impala.  "You can toss the bags onto the back seat," he said, after reaching across to open Sam’s door.

"Alright so we got food and clothes, now let’s go gank some vampires.  Evil vampires,” he amended, recalling their ridiculous argument earlier where Sam had accused him of killing every unnatural creature, without regard for their proclivities.  There was a BIG difference between ‘most’ and ‘all.’

The bags got pushed over the front seat and dropped into the back without any problem, and Sam settled himself in, taking up every inch of his half of the car. The impending journey seemed far more enjoyable when he was not cinched into a bursting tunic and covered with a bare scrap of cloth.

Nudity didn’t bother him in the least, but being clothed was a mite more comfortable, especially when he couldn’t fly or stretch his limbs out properly. These vehicles were very— small.

Tiny or not, their quest was spent without much farther event, Sam spending the whole time frowning at the window at what he saw and trying his best to ignore the horrible wailing coming from the little holes in front of him. The world had much changed from what he’d been used to. Some aspects he remembered. Trees, fields, livestock, crops. The houses were much larger, and what he assumed were farms...did not look much like farms at all. There were great wide roads that didn’t bump or jiggle the seat below him that stretched as far as the eye could see, and they traveled faster than any mere human had in his knowledge, not without being carried. Large signs, small signs, so many people and establishments. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all.