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trans_92009-06-27 10:52 pm
thenameissam.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92009-06-27 10:52 pm
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'Till I Collapse [Closed] [R for Language]
The meeting of the 'yeerk council' had done nothing to soothe Sam's tempered. To the contrary, it had left him even more pissed off than he'd been before. He didn't understand, couldn't comprehend, how they couldn't agree with him. How could they be ok with that thing staying, alive, on the ship? How could they, after everything they had all been through? After everything they'd been put through?
And, so, it was because of this, this sense of betrayal, that Sam is back in the sensoriums working out his frustration on a punching bag. With Stacy currently refusing to allow him to proceed past level 5 in her sparring programs, he is left with a gymnasium program--complete with a boxing ring--and the various facilities it had to offer. He needed to vent and this seemed--to him--to be the healthiest way of doing it.
Therefore, he stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, one positioned slightly behind the other, while he beat the large red bag in front of him. Launching fast, sharp jabs and periodically kicking it, Sam unleashed everything he'd been taught by his father upon his stuffed opponent. Sweat dripped from his forehead, his mop of hair laying plastered to the side of his head, and served as evidence of just how long he'd been in there.
And, so, it was because of this, this sense of betrayal, that Sam is back in the sensoriums working out his frustration on a punching bag. With Stacy currently refusing to allow him to proceed past level 5 in her sparring programs, he is left with a gymnasium program--complete with a boxing ring--and the various facilities it had to offer. He needed to vent and this seemed--to him--to be the healthiest way of doing it.
Therefore, he stood with his feet shoulder-width apart, one positioned slightly behind the other, while he beat the large red bag in front of him. Launching fast, sharp jabs and periodically kicking it, Sam unleashed everything he'd been taught by his father upon his stuffed opponent. Sweat dripped from his forehead, his mop of hair laying plastered to the side of his head, and served as evidence of just how long he'd been in there.
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Sam gave a resolute nod. "Then we kill it. Just like everything else we hunt."
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A long pause, and then Dean glances at Sam.
"Are you holding up alright?" Dean asks, and by the way he says it, he's implying now, as in after Sam had let it out.
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"Yeah, maybe, I guess," he answered with a weak nod. "But I'll feel a hell of a lot better once that thing is dead and gone and can't hurt anybody else."
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"... Bet I could beat you at hitting the punching bag." Dean announces, the first thing popping up in his mind coming straight out.
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"No you can't," Sam scoffed.
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Yeah? And? I'm taller," Sam countered. "And I can lift more than you."
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"Just 'cause you're a Sasquatch doesn't mean you can lift more than me."
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"No, the fact that I can lift more than you means that I can lift more than you."
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"Shut up and get your ass over here and prove it then."
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