trans_9 | Say What You Want [R for Cussing][Open]

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Say What You Want [R for Cussing][Open]

Yes, Sam Winchester was still secure in his cell, sitting on his bed, still writing in John Winchester's journal as he had been for much of the time since he'd been locked up. A stack of uneaten slop trays sat outside his cell, a sign that he was still not eating. The only nourishment he would take came from the silver flask of water that sat on the floor near the head of the bed that he had refilled periodically by either Dean or whoever was in the Precinct at the time.

He'd had several visitors, many of them trying to convince him to back down, to start eating again. But each time he had refused, defiantly resisting any and all efforts to change his mind or sway him into thinking he was wrong. He wasn't wrong. He knew it.

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Selene shrugged her shoulders. "Like I said, I'm a bar maid. You learn to listen to things. Especially when if you don't, you find giant spiders are in the bathroom almost a bit too late," she commented.

"Though, I have to say, probably chose the best protest there is on this ship. There's no smell of good food outside the sensorium, so you can't be tempted, right?"

"I guess so," he admitted with a laugh. "A pile of raw ground beef on a cardboard plate isn't exactly appetizing. No matter how hungry you get."

"Yeah. When it just looks like a pile of gloop, there's really no temptation to wanting to eat it. It makes high school seem like a five star restaurant," Selene said with a small laugh of her own.

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=01-20deadmanblood-1.png)

"Yeah, I guess it does," Sam laughed, remembering the food at the multitude of schools he'd attended while on the road with his dad. Although, compared to the fast food and convenience store crap he and his family had survived upon much of the time, eating crappy school food was oddly a step up.

"So what brought you down here? Hangin' out with the guy in the brig isn't exactly the most exciting thing around here."

"Even if the sensorium can make it taste the same, I'd still love for a normal hamburger or pizza," Selene said with a sigh. And that's when she started a small idea that she hoped convincing him to at least eat easier. The brig would start to smell like the foods she just mentioned. Only faintly, however. Just enough to make it seem like it was a craving making the smell.

After all, while Selene claimed to be a barmaid, she had several tricks up her sleeve, and one was the ability to make illusions for all the senses except for when someone needs it to be physically touched. So it was a simple matter to make the smell of food. After all, since they couldn't tempt him with real food, might as well at least get the smell around.

She shrugged again. "I was curious, I admit. I wanted to see if the rumors were true. Not to mention there isn't a whole lot of exciting after you get over the fact you're on an alien spaceship."

Sam's nose twitched at the faint smell of food, food that wasn't there, and there was a rather audible grumble in his stomach. It'd been days since he'd eaten and he was famished. It was, admittedly, getting harder and harder to keep turning even the slop down, but he still somehow manage to resist.

"Yeah, they're true all right," he said.

Selene kept up the smell when she heard the grumble. And would slowly, very, very slowly, make the smell stronger. Not so strong one thinks the food is there, but still present.

Selene nodded. "And let me guess, people have been done here a lot to ask you why you're so set on starving yourself until this Yeerk thing dies, right?" She asked.

And, now, she's getting a suspicious look.

"If you're as informed as you say you are that's not much of a guess, now is it?" Sam pointed out.

"Actually, that I didn't hear. I just guessed," Selene said with a sheepish grin. "I mean, a guy is acting suicidal, people ask what he thinks he has to gain in death," she said and paused.

"But I've always had a different question, I must admit. I always wonder what they don't have to live for."

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=SPN-Icons-supernatural-1390934-1-1.jpg)

"Who says I'm suicidal?"

"If you have any real dedication to this protest, you're expecting to die. It doesn't matter if you got a purpose behind it or just because you're an emo kid, if you're expecting to die, it's suicidal," Selene said simply.

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=Supernatural-supernatural-141545-1.jpg)

"Maybe. But you're assuming that means I have nothing to live for, implying that I want to die. Which is a pretty big leap considering I've only known for, what, three minutes?"

"Now you're putting words in my mouth," Selene retorted. "I've merely stated what's my opinion. Now, maybe you do want to die, but I don't know that yet."

She sat up, looking at him curiously. "So I'm gonna ask. Don't you have anything you want to live for? A goal, a person? Anything that you would regret not doing if you died or someone who you'll hurt because you left them behind? I suppose I got as curious as I did because I saw there was someone else with the name Winchester on the roster and wondered how they're dealing with the situation, if they're related to you."

"Leave him out of this," Sam replied, almost snapping at her to make it clear that Dean was off-limits.

Selene paused and smiled sadly. "So he is close. I was kind of worried about that," she said. "Mainly, I just thought how I could sympathize, if you did die. Losing a family member hurts a lot."

"Look, lady, you don't even know what you're talking about, so why don't you do us both a favor and let it go and save me the trouble and you the embarrassment. All right?"

Selene looked at him calmly. "You should stop this, Sam," she said simply. "If just mentioning Dean gets you this riled up, this defensive, you're not ready to die."

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=043_312.png)

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, sister."

"Don't misunderstand. You're willing to die. That does not mean you're ready," Selene said. "The fact is, they're quite different. Many people can be willing to die at any point in time during their lives for various reasons. That does not mean you are ready to die."

She rested her chin on her arms again. "You are willing to die to see the Yeerk killed. Honestly, I can understand wanting it to die. From what I hear, I'd want it dead too," she admitted. More like what she saw in Paco's dreams. It was horrifying. It was even worse than what Exile did to her. At least she didn't have to watch it while trapped.

"But I personally believe I should listen to a proper justice system too. Being normal and having a friend whose a superhero, you learn what could go wrong if people are willing to take justice into their hands alone." How many times had she ignored that, given nightmares to those who had hurt her when things were said and done?

"But...all of that? That doesn't matter for what I think about you Sam. Right now, I don't care about what you think about the Yeerk. What I do care about is making sure you don't do something stupid, no matter how noble you believe the reasons are. If you were ready to die for this Sam, then you would be at peace. Meaning the only thing that should rile you up is the Yeerk. The fact you don't want me talking about Dean just says you don't want me to...because you're afraid that talking about him will get you to stop, right? That means you're not ready to die for this Sam. If you keep like this, if you die, it will be with regret and you will cause someone you care very much to be in a lot of pain to die by your own hand."

"I know what I'm doing," Sam countered defiantly. "I don't need your psychoanalysis to tell me that. You don't know me. You don't know Dean. You don't know anything about us, what we've done, what we've seen, what we've had to give up already. So, I suggest you take your psycho-babble and peddle it to someone who wants to hear it before I have you thrown out of here."

Selene looked at him calmly. "You know what you're doing?" She asked. "Tell me, Sam, tell me what you're doing. Exactly. Unless you're afraid of a little barmaid's thoughts."

"And while you're at it, can you tell me why you want to make Dean give up more if you've both already given up so much?"

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=6723610522_445285.jpg)

"Sorry. That information is classified," Sam replied with a tiny smile as he regurgitated the same four words that Stacy seemed inclined to repeat over and over again.

"And now you're being evasive," Selene said, getting out of the chair and walking up to the bars, looping her arms through and resting there, still staring at him. She wasn't too worried about her safety from Dean. Anyone who was doing a 'non violent protest to kill a threat' would likely be horrified if he did hurt a young woman from just anger.

And she could always put him to sleep if he tried something drastic.

"Another point for you're not ready, Sam. You don't have secrets when you're willing to die. Well, not personal secrets. Telling me the answers to my questions, they're just things you reveal about yourself. And what will it hurt to say them?"

She paused. "Unless you don't like things not being fair. You could ask me questions, see if I'm 'worthy' if you will to tell things too."

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=Sam-sam-winchester-4468155-100-100.jpg)

Sucking in a deep breath, Sam folded his arms over his chest before letting it out and just staring down at her. He wasn't telling her anything more than he already had. No amount of poking, prodding or word-play was going to get him to open up.

Nothing. Not a word passed his lips. He just simply stood like an unmovable statue, staring at her with an eyebrow cocked in apparent amusement.

Selene looked back calmly. She was used to being patient. When one doesn't sleep, patience was required.

After several long moments, she finally spoke. "It was my brother...the one I lost."

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