chicago ♔ subscribe me not to darkness

[principal]

♬ To Darkness - Mumford and Sons

WHO || Buffy Summers, Sam Winchester, Robin Wood [closed]
WHAT || Buffy accompanies Sam to Chicago, seeking answers about Dean's past... and the fate of the version of Sam from this world
WHERE || Chicago, USA
WHEN || Late-October [back-dated]
HOW || Actionspam

Sam Winchester has not a very easy time of this world.  

Most of the reasons for which, it seems, can be traced back to the fact that there was another Sam Winchester native to this dimension.  One who somehow managed to alienate his brother Dean to the point where he almost murdered Sam on sight, and it's been a very slow, uphill battle ever since to get Dean to say more than two non-hostile words in a row to him.

An uphill battle that's going too slowly for Sam's taste.  

Upon googling his own name and doing some research in hunter circles, he learned more and more disturbing facts - including the fact that he and Dean from this world were held responsible for the deaths of Jo & Ellen Harvelle, and Bobby Singer.  Distraught by what he'd learned, he shared the facts with his new friend, Buffy, who agreed to travel with him to Chicago tracing down one of the only leads they have on finding out more about what happened, since Dean doesn't seem inclined to share.

And so off they go to Chicago - home to some of Buffy's own demons - to check out the Hunter's bar run by Robin Wood.

Comments

[slay]

[ The word angel seizes her sharp focus and she rivets her eyes to Robin's face, searching for any hint of doubt of the story. Any hint of uncertainty, even. She doesn't fuck around with angel talk. ]

Which one? Did he say what it looked like? Testing him for what?

[principal]

Which one what?

[slay]

Which angel? I want a name or a—a description or anything.

[principal]

Uh. Castiel.




He wore a trenchcoat.

[slay]

[ dead eyes. blinks twice. ]





Well, that's tacky.

[principal]

If he were still around, you could try telling him that to his face. I don't think anyone wanted to tell some guy claiming he was an "Angel of the Lord" that his chosen human form was 'tacky'.

[slay]

He's not still around? What happened?

[ She perks up at that, confusion evident. ]

And what did he do to Dean?

[principal]

The way Dean tells it, he got killed. Don't ask me what could kill a supposed angel. And Dean sure didn't like talking about it.

I don't know that he did anything to him, besides try to help him see this thing through. Way I hear it, they were almost inseparable for awhile. I saw him myself once. Kind of an intense guy, unnerving stare. But angel...

I don't know.

Anyway, Dean undertakes this quest, and the next thing he knows, all of Hell's on his heels trying to get him to stop. People who get close to him start dropping off like flies. Valued people in the hunting community. If things were bad wherever he went before, well now, hunters hear he's coming to town and they start being ready to run him off themselves.

He'd never go into much more detail than that. And whatever else happened, most of the people involved are apparently in no position to go talking about it.

[slay]

The people, yeah.

[ The way she says it sounds distracted, like she's far off in some distance part of her mind. Filing that note away and thinking of some exception. A blink snaps her back into Robin's company, and she looks back up at him. ]

You don't know anything about what this quest was? What Dean was supposed to be doing?

[principal]

Castiel kept phrasing it as 'redeeming mankind' or 'absolving humanity', but what that actually means... I couldn't tell you.

Only time I ever heard Dean talk about it directly, he was drunker than I'd ever seen him, and said something about 'saving everybody'. Now, I've known a hunter with an ego or two in my day, but saving everybody ... that's a pretty tall order. Of the impossible variety.

[slay]

[ Ouch. Buffy, for all her savior complex, can sympathize. More worryingly, to her: ]

What does humanity need to be absolved of?

[principal]

People have done a lot of good over the years, Buffy, but I don't think either of us are naive enough to think they haven't done a lot of bad either.

I'm assuming it was something along those lines. Something we've apparently still been paying for, even now.

[slay]

[ Grim and understanding, Buffy drops her chin, eyes on the floor. Robin doesn't need to expound further on that: she's seen the worst of humanity because she's just recently been it. Raising one hand, she brushes blonde strands away from her face, looking back up at him. ]

What about Sam? Where does he come into all of this? It sounds like Dean's the one running off the rails and burning fumes.

[principal]

They say Sam sold him out in the end.

Threw his lot in with Hell. Sold his soul to the Devil, and swore allegiance to Lucifer himself.

I even hear he got hooked on drinking devil blood. It's supposed to grant... some kind of powers. He kept it from Dean for months: the addiction, and the truth about who he was working for.

I don't know if it was the angel, one of his buddies, something outta hell, or Dean himself. But I wasn't surprised to hear that Sam wasn't left standing when it was all over.

[slay]

[ An instinctive step back follows, and Buffy's eyes widen. ]

No.

[ Everything in her is not only repulsed, but totally incapable of processing the idea. Her stomach turns, one hand reaching up to cover her mouth as she tries to process her own disgust while the information sinks in, bit by bit. Buffy's not in any position to stand on some moral high ground, but drinking devil's blood? Signing on with Hell? ]

No, Sam would never do that. They were wrong. They have to be wrong: that's not him. I've met him. Robin, he is a good person.

[principal]

[ there's real sympathy in his eyes as he watches her. but also a harsh realism. ] A lot of people start out one way and end up another, Buffy.

Sometimes the ones who fall the hardest are the ones who had the farthest to fall.

[slay]

[ It's there in her eyes, breaking through. Horror. And it's not Sam she thinks of when he says it: it's like looking in a mirror, staring at every horrible thing she's done and feeling sick. He's not the only one falling. She's crashing, covered in blood, and outwardly, her hands tremble as they drop to her sides. ]

No.

[ She croaks the word out. ]

It was a mistake. A misunderstanding. There's more to it; there has to be. He's not a monster.

[principal]

I'm not sure there's a whole lot of 'ends justify the means' logic that's going to make up for this one.

But who knows. Like I said, I don't have the whole story.

[slay]

You're right. You don't.

[ But maybe she knows who will—if she can get them to talk to her. ]

But I'm gonna find out what it is. [ She steps back, ready to turn and head back into the bar, but she stops. ] Until I do … Sam can't hear this. It'll destroy him. Everything he's been working for, everything he wants to prove about himself ...

[principal]

Might make him throw it out the window, right. [ an uncomfortable pause. ] Though who's to say it's not going to happen anyway?

Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe it wasn't. But if Sam's capable of this kind of thing, someone's got to make sure he doesn't fall that far again. And if he does...

[slay]

I know.

[ Misery colors her voice. It's something she's already had to consider before, even if not for Sam, and she feels sick even acknowledging that she knows what he means. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is all she's good for: a sword arm. A killer. ]

But he's not, Robin. I'm telling you: he's not capable of what you're saying.

[principal]

I hope you're right, Buffy.

I really do.

[slay]

[ There's something steely and resolved below the self-loathing and conflict in her eyes, all layered beneath an overwhelming sadness. Truthfully? She isn't so sure that she's right, either. She rarely is. Blinking it away, moistening her eyelashes in the process, she turns away from Robin. ]

I have to go. He's out there in a bar full of hunters, they could—

[ Sharp, cheery pop music cuts her off, vibrating out of her jacket pocket. She glances down, reaching in and pulling out her phone. There's a banner message—following a lead. back soon.—that injects dread directly into her veins, but Des' picture pops up over it. A quick swipe, and she answers the call, turning away from Robin for some imitation of privacy. ]

Des? Not a good time.

[nothingsodivine]

There's not gonna be a good time for this, Blondie. [There's a definite edge to his voice.] I tried to call Rafael and his phone's been disconnected. Same with Isabella's. And Burt's not in his office.

[There's a lengthy pause.] I'll give you three guesses as to what my theory is, but I bet you're only gonna need one.

[slay]

[ Even before he dives straight into the nitty gritty, the fact that there's no good time makes her stomach drop.

And then it gets worse than she could have imagined. Quickly.

The ground falls out from under her, her expression crumbling into disconnected shock. Entirely slack and empty, disbelieving. Numbness creeps in from her extremities, dulling her senses, making her feel separate from her own body—enough so that she doesn't feel the phone slipping through her fingers and clattering to the floor.

Green eyes go out of focus, and she slowly turns her head, looking around the back room without actually seeing any of it.

Iscariot. ]