InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Balls."

Sam Winchester (_bitch) wrote,
@ 2009-11-13 12:53:00

Current location:	Some crappy motel
Current mood:	annoyed
Entry tags:	character:dean, character:sam, time:prestanford, type:scene

Well wait, what's today's date? There's plenty of time left to procrastinate - or plan my escape;

As far as papers go, even Sam thinks this one is stupid. He’s supposed to argue a point he doesn’t even agree with, which is annoying and stupid in the first place, and makes the actual writing of it feel like pulling teeth, or stitching a wound, or some other tedious and painful task. And then he's had Dad bugging him about everything up until he left yesterday, and Dean being Dean and acting like Sam accomplishing good grades is pointless and stupid, or like he just doesn’t get that Sam can’t think while his brother is acting like a bored six year old (how he managed to be the mature one of the two of them is beyond him; you'd think Dean being older would actually mean something other than that he thinks it's his brotherly duty to make Sam miserable). And this is a huge chunk of his grade on top of that, and if his GPA drops much, he won’t be able to keep his scholarships, and he needs those. This paper's been assigned for a week, it's due tomorrow, and he's only just managed to get it started today.

So he's not exactly in the best of moods right now.

But still, he’s gotten a few minutes while Dean went out for food (knowing his brother, he’s going to come back with something grease laden and completely unhealthy, and he’ll have conveniently forgotten that Sam asked for a salad, and Sam will have to end up eating whatever he brings because he’s not going to waste the time to go get something he actually wants to eat, never mind that getting the credit card they’re using this month from Dean would be impossibly hard), and he's going to make the best of it - he’s ready to kick this paper’s ass. Seriously. As soon as he figures out how he’s supposed to give reasons why this stupid opinion is valid when he doesn’t really think it is, anyway.

He’s gotten maybe two hundred of the required thousand words done when the motel room door swings open, loud creak of hinges and then the slam of it hitting the wall, and his brother comes inside, door banged closed after him. Sam sighs and glares in his direction at the interruption.

“Could you maybe try to be a little louder? I don’t think the entire complex knows you’re here yet.”

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_bitch
2009-12-04 08:12 pm UTC (link)

>“That's not the point!”

“Then what is the point, Dean?” He’s half just responding with whatever comes out, and half genuinely asking, because for the life of him, he has no idea what the point of this, of any of this, even is. From what he’s seen, none of it makes any sense at all. It’s just stupid.

And, yeah, he wishes he’d kept his mouth shut a few seconds longer, because as soon as the words are out he knows what they’re going to do, he knows coming. He knows his brother, and he’s tensed and waiting for the inevitable snap. It’s sort of rare that they ever come to blows over things (him and Dean, that is - he and Dad get to that point almost every time they’re together; every time Dean doesn’t step between them, that is), but it’s not completely unheard of.

Knowing it’s coming doesn’t mean it doesn’t startle him a little, or send his breath out in a “Hnnph,” sound at the impact with the wall, because he doesn’t dodge out of the way before his brother’s on him. He shoves at Dean with one hand as soon as his instincts kick back in, before he’s even actually caught his breath or thought about it, getting ready to throw a punch with the other hand because he’s still pissed off, sort of itching for a proper fight right now, and just because he said something stupid didn’t mean he didn’t mean it, and all of this is just getting to be too much to deal with.

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_jerk
2009-12-04 08:29 pm UTC (link)

It's true, they don't fight that often (training bouts don't count, because then it's all about technique and not about making your opponent admit they're in the wrong, and even if he can hear dad somewhere in the background yelling out advice on the proper technique, the optimum hold or the best place to connect with to send a man sprawling it's a different matter entirely). Maybe because they're both too damn good at it – it's not a case of flailing at each other for a while before giving up, the way most fights would be. There's tactics, and the fact they actually know what they're doing beyond just hitting each other. He lets the shove send him back a pace or two, almost stumble, before coming back in on a slightly different trajectory – Sam's height gives him too much of an advantage at arm's length, so it's much better to get in close where gangly-ness will make his accuracy suffer and rain in as many blows as possible from there – slamming one elbow upwards to try and pin his brother at the throat while the other hand concentrates on getting a good solid punch in on the ribs or guts.

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