Poker Face [R for Poss. Cussing] [Closed]

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

After spending some time in detention, Sam found himself being handcuffed once again and taken from his cell. He kept his head high and his shoulders back. Not out of pride for what he had done but more out a need to silently express that, while he felt horrible that people had gotten injured during the fighting, his spirit was not broken. He was then taken out of the detention hall and led down a long corridor to an interrogation room. Whether it was the same room where Leon had questioned him after his first 'arrest', Sam didn't know. But, it did look remarkably similar. Then again, one interrogation room wasn't much different than another.

He was aided into a chair, his wrists still cuffed behind his back, then left alone for a few moments before the interrogator entered and the questioning began.

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[asluciferfell.livejournal.com]

Javert's not quite like most of the other security personnel-- There's no look of betrayal, or anger, not even frustration. There's only a flat, placid look accompanied by his usual heavy scowl. It's hard to be betrayed when you never trusted anyone to begin with.

"Well, boy. Pleased with the facilities in the prison, are you?"

Javert's not going to address him formally; Sam's beneath that. But it's not Sam he sees in his mind's eye, no; There's a parading shift of men and boys, nearly a score of them. Blonde, redheaded, dark and wild, or soft and bookish. Stupid boys. Dead boys. He had little doubt of where revolutions took you. It was always to the grave, sooner or later. Sam would be no different.

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=p.jpg)


'Boy?'

....

'Boy?'

....

Well, that was a quick way to bypass cooperative and go straight to Winchester-Smart-Ass in as little time as possible. Sam glanced upward with a defiant look on his face.

"Paint job could use some work," he answered.

[asluciferfell.livejournal.com]

"Unfortunately, it was not our choice." Javert raises an eyebrow. He's not really worried about Sam being uncooperative. He would quite contentedly spend all day going nowhere in the interrogation, convinced of his superior stamina when it came to waiting.

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=tr.jpg)

"Really?" Sam said in a very 'no-shit-Sherlock' tone. "So, I suppose that means complaining about the clothes isn't gonna get me anywhere either, huh?"

[asluciferfell.livejournal.com]

"No." And there isn't a hint of annoyance or humor to Javert's voice-- just flat statement.

"One of your...ill-conceived attempt at vigilantism escaped. We desire to know who."

There's no beating around the bush with Javert, all blunt questions and stubborn stating.

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=017_419.png)

Sam shifted in his seat, getting as comfortable as he could considering his hands were restrained behind him, and directed his gaze forward, not looking directly at Javert.

"Beats me."

[asluciferfell.livejournal.com]

Javert snorts derisively. The colloquialism banishes the image in his mind's eye, this time a pale, sickly young man with ill-fiting spectacles. There's only Sam-- and he's even less noble than the hypochondriac.

"Unfortunately, the head of Security frowns upon such things. Nevertheless, you do know and you will inform me."

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=spn4x10part2all.jpg)

"Well, I guess you better order lunch in, 'cause we're gonna be here a while," Sam replied. It didn't matter how long Javert kept him, didn't matter how hard he pressed, he wouldn't be getting the answers he wanted.

"I don't have a clue who he was. He just showed up, wanted to help, and I didn't ask any questions."

[asluciferfell.livejournal.com]

Javert simply shifts his posture slightly-- the steady, balanced stance of the policeman, ready to spend hours in one spot.

"I will wait. Eventually, you'll tell me."
If Sam were to meet Javert's eyes-- quite a ways up though they were-- He'd see simple bullheadedness. Javert wasn't giving up anytime soon.

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=038_312-1.png)

"I don't know who he is," Sam adamantly repeated, meeting Javert's stubborn gaze with his own. "So, you're wasting your time. He showed up. I needed the help. He offered it. So, I took it. That's all I know. I was locked up during the trial, I just figured he was a new arrival."

[asluciferfell.livejournal.com]

"Physical description." He'll accept that Sam doesn't know his name, but not that he recalls nothing.

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=tr.jpg)

"I dunno," Sam shrugged. "He had red-hair and dressed like he jumped out of a Dumas novel. That's all I know about him...other than he tried to kill me, that is."

[asluciferfell.livejournal.com]

Javert filed the information away in his mind.

"A Dumas novel?" They're a little later than Javert knows of, and so he cannot place the reference. "Be clearer. I've no time for vague references."

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=p.jpg)

"Well, I'd draw you a picture but I'm a crappy artist," Sam countered. "He's a guy with red hair. There can't be that many of them running around the ship."

[asluciferfell.livejournal.com]

Javert grunted. He wanted to know more about the people on this ship; not knowing if he could pick a stranger out of a crowd, that disturbed him.

It looked, at the moment, as if this was the best he would get out of the boy. In such case, he was done; other questions were to be left to other men, and he washed his hands of it. Too many irritating memories were attempting to surface due to this sorry affair; Javert wanted well quit of it, until he had had time to digest his own feelings on the matter.

"A stranger with red hair, eh? That's as may be. Fine, then; if that's all you're worth, back with you." Javert signaled to someone to take Sam back to the brig, where he belonged.