* ARCHIVED !

THE TINY JOB AT THE LIBRARY is his reprieve from the horrors he faces at home. Just about every day the events are the same. Granted as he’s gotten older and TALLER the abuse has stopped somewhat, but he’s far too goodhearted to rear back on his own father. On the weekends, Jacoby typically disappears and goes to work during the time he isn’t at school. To the dismay of his father at least he can’t show up to make a scene so in a way its his safe place. On the outside to everyone else Blake Rawlings has made Jake seem like the outsider; the no good trouble maker, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

Most of his days are fairly normal and quiet. That is how he likes it since the rest of his life is chaos. As he looks up from his shelves of books from refiling he notices the young man standing not too far away. For a moment he thinks there is a mirror that has been placed in the middle of the room without his knowledge. How could this be? Eyes squint in confusion and his heart pounds as he tries to discern what the hell is going on.

“I’m dreaming right? There’s no way there’s another me standing right here.” 

        He doesn’t move closer just yet, just waits for something----because monster or not, he knows something will happen (and he just hopes he won’t be forced to hunt something down). But the sincere shock and confusion showing up in the other boy’s face is more than enough to make the sudden ‘flight or fight’ instinct melt away from his muscles--an almost stupid reaction from all these years trying to be a hunter but it’s not like it really matters now. Now he’s got more important stuff in mind to worry about.

       He steps closer, slowly, takes the moment to really look at the other boy now that he’s close enough--they’re identical, that’s more than obvious now but there’s something else hidden in there, something he can’t really put his finger on but the thought is quickly dismissed as the other finally says something. And well it’s not like that same thought hasn’t crossed his mind but he doubts the whole situation is this simple.

❛  right.   ❜   not skipping a beat, even if his heart felt as though it was beginning to drop at the question sam just asked.   ❛  how’re you feeling?  ❜  the questions of what sam remembered were staying in the back of his mind, but he didn’t want to focus on the negative. he needed to know sam was okay, that sam was still fighting the good fight and they could go back to something simple— whatever that entailed.  ❛  if you’re feeling well we could go back to the motel.  ❜

      He nods softly at the man’s answer, looks away from the strange face and takes a moment to just stare at the white wall--the question makes him hesitate for a minute longer and he tries to think about how he’s really feeling. The pain in his body doesn’t feel so bad now but things in his head are... difficult. He knows there are things he should remember, faces he should recognize but nothing comes to his mind but a blank page that feels endless and uncomfortable whenever he focuses on the lost memories for too long. 

         THE MAN WITH HIS HEIGHT SHOULD BE quite intimidating, but for some reason Carl isn’t phased. He knows what to do to protect himself and he knows not to let his guard down. There have been too many close calls to allow for any missteps thus far. It worries Carl when the man hesitates, but then when he answers the one visible eye grows a bit wide. It’s not often he hears a number so large, but the man also didn’t lie. At least he thinks so. He furrows his brow and lifts his chin. “Why?” It’s all he asks because his answer depends on whether or not he’s invited to come back to Alexandria. Upon hearing the man’s answer he knows that he could have been easily in the same position. “All those people tried to kill you?” Seems a little far fetched but Carl knows its not impossible after everything he’s been through.

Sam was still in shock. So much had happened since he had ended up in Apocalypse World. He had gotten split up from his brother and Jack. They had run into Lucifer, but not his mother, which sent worry spiking through him. And now, here he was running from this world’s Michael with an alternate version of himself. The only thing keeping him from freaking out was his past experience with crazy. This was probably one of the strangest things that had ever happened to him, though.

The hunter nodded, trying to slow down his breathes and keep from making too much noise. Whoever this version of himself was and whatever he planned to do, Sam was sure following him was better than getting between Michael and Lucifer while they fought. Anything was better than being near Him anyway. Sam braced himself to run.

         Well at least the other isn’t freaking out as badly as he’d expected and that’s a good thing. He offers him a soft smile, moves his hand to rest it on the man’s shoulder for a moment--as if to reassure him, if that was even possible right now. ❝ Good. ❞ He takes in a deep breath and allows himself to peek over his shoulder for a second just to be sure--and Michael was still too focused on Lucifer or whoever that one was to pay attention to them, so maybe they have a good chance to run without being noticed right away.

         “ True forms are hard to see. Most of them are too bright for anyone to handle. ” Not to mention that some people couldn’t handle it, but Michael would do his best to do whatever was needed to keep Sam content. If that meant keeping himself as looking human? He would. 

           “ You’re special sam. A reason that I… along with all the other Angels believe in you.”

      ❝ True forms? ❞ He repeats, curiosity filling his voice--he doesn’t even allow himself to feel stupid for making such a question, too interested in whatever the man has to say to really care about it in that moment. He steps closer, the old warning of ‘not talking to strangers’ completely forgotten. This man isn’t bad. He knows that--he just does.