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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"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."

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"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?"

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"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."

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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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"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, sympathetically.

"I was seven at the time. We was a decade older than me, but we were rather close despite that difference. He took care of me a lot because our parents had to work a lot with low paying jobs. I really admired him. Then he fell into a bad crowd. He never did any really bad things. Just bad enough to get brought home by the cops a few times. At least I hope that's the worst he did. Sometimes he'd come back drunk," Selene said, in a soft, gentle voice.

She looked amused for a moment. "I didn't even get it at the time. I got him in trouble because I asked mom and dad why he was walking and smelled funny. I think that's the first time he got angry at me that it wasn't really called for. And...it started the fights he'd have with our parents."

She paused, looking away. "I was seven when he had a really bad fight with my mom and dad and left the house in the middle of the night. The next time I saw him, he was in a coffin after driving into a tree with a car full of beer bottles."

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"That must have been hard," he said, still sympathetic, treating her much as he would any one of the people he and Dean met on the road--the ones who were completely oblivious to what was really out there.

"It was. It was such a simple way to die. Not a civilian in some madman's take over the world scheme, not some alien invasion, not even some supervillain robbing a bank. All of it was...so normal, as everything was in Apex City then," Selene said softly. "It's hard to remember, when you know the place you live in is the only one relatively normal, is still dangerous even without the super powered evil doers."

She looked at Sam. "He didn't die for any reason than his own stupidity. As much as it hurts to say that, it was because he did something he shouldn't have. I...had actually wanted to become a therapist or someone...someone who could help kids like my brother. Kind of had money troubles and I ended up as a barmaid of all things. Even for the past year, with everything going weird in Apex with dreams coming alive, super villains robbing banks, giant bugs, alien invasions, I found the most terrifying thing was that my brother died...because of the choices he made alone, because he didn't think things through. And that I didn't know enough to help him."

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

"That's too bad," he said after she'd finished recounting her story. "But I'm not your brother. I'm not being stupid, I've thought things through, I know what I'm doing, and just because I don't feel the need to share it with you doesn't prove that I haven't. All it proves is that it's none of your damn business."

Selene shook her head. "Then you missed the point entirely. After all, when you're dead, you can't regret your decision," she said.

She looked at him with a serious expression, almost scolding. "The only comfort is my brother didn't have to regret his stupidity because I still love him and wouldn't want him to suffer. But what about Dean?" She asked. "How will Dean feel, after you two went through so much, given up so much, and probably been through a lot of weird crap because that's the kind of tone you're using when you act like I can't understand. How will Dean feel after all of that...and you just died by your own hand, your own decision? Does he think killing that Yeerk is as important as you being alive? Does he care that little for you and fear the Yeerk that much?"

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=Supernatural-supernatural-1395906-1.jpg)

Sam doesn't say anything for the longest time. He merely collects his father's journal, returns to his bed and eases himself down onto it, and resumes writing.

"Good-bye."

It's clear from his tone that, as far as Sam is concerned, the conversation is over.

Still, she's gotta try.

"Or is it, that you don't care? That you don't care enough about Dean that the fear of the Yeerk has overrun it? Are you afraid of it taking over your mind? That you will lose control again and do horrible things, Sam? And are you afraid to face what that Yeerk has done to you and that's why you're so afraid that even a girl like me can scare you?"

"Believe me, you don't scare me."

"I think you are," Selene said. "I think what you are is terrified of what happened. It's pretty desperate to think that if you threaten to let yourself die that they'll kill someone else. There's too many heroes on board, Sam. I'd be worried if they actually gave into your demand, honestly. And I'm pretty sure you know why they wouldn't want to kill, right? The whole 'if we do it once without being forced to, it might become too easy,' you know? So, the question is, why do you think this will work?"

She tilted her head to one side, looking at him thoughtfully. "And that's why I think you're terrified of anything to do with the Yeerk. Because you're doing something that, logically speaking, you should know isn't going to work by this point."

"Think what you want, lady," he said dismissively. Tired of her probing and her questions and her outright refuse to leave Sam hollered out to whoever was supposed to be standing guard over him.

"Someone wanna get her the fuck out of here?" he called out.

"How did it feel, seeing your own body be used to hurt others? Knowing no matter how hard you fought, you couldn't regain control?"

"I said someone get her the FUCK OUT OF HERE!!"

"Do you blame yourself for losing control?! Or do you think you'll become a monster like that to try and explain why you did lose control?!" Selene demanded. "Did you feel a sense of horror and guilt, as you led people you know to what you knew what would hurt them? Did you scream and panic, trying to find a way to stop it, to save them?! Did you wish anything to happen, anything to happen to you to stop yourself?! Did you?!" Selene demanded.

The thing was, she didn't look angry. Determined, fierce, but also...understanding. "Did you feel horrified when you had control again, and remember what you did? That you wished you could have the Yeerk in your hand, so you could make him feel all that panic, that fear, you did when you thought you might kill someone you care about?"

After talking to Dean, Lyta still had a strong feeling that this whole situation could easily spiral out of control, especially with Sam Winchester starving himself in his cell. She'd seen enough mobs on Babylon 5 to learn that it didn't take long--or much--to set them off, to turn a political disagreement into violence, especially when one of the parties to the disagreement was being kept behind bars.

She'd promised Dean she wouldn't say anything to anyone else about her suspicions. They were, after all, just suspicions and unprovable without using invasive scans to find out what people might be hiding, and she wasn't about to do that. It went against everything she believed in. That left her one alternative: she had to talk to Sam herself.

And that is what she was planning on doing, that's what had brought her down to the Precinct where she found one of the new girls stand outside of his cell. Why she was there, Lyta didn't know, but given Sam's shouts for her to leave and her apparent refusal to do so, it was obvious that she was upsetting him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lyta demanded,

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