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

[demonbloodsam.livejournal.com]

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.

Comments

[el-escarabajo.livejournal.com]

"As long as it seems fair and not like a kangaroo court--like they really considered everything--then at least it will have been fair. I don't go running around pulling people off of death row."

[demonbloodsam.livejournal.com]

Sam was quiet for a moment before finally nodding. "All right. I guess we'll see what the jury has to say then."

[el-escarabajo.livejournal.com]

"I don't suppose this means you'll be eating?"

[demonbloodsam.livejournal.com]

(http://s225.photobucket.com/albums/dd304/mysterio2000/Sam%20Winchester/?action=view&current=Jus-In-Bello-Icons-supernatural-139.jpg)

"No," he said with a slight shake of his head. "Sorry."

[el-escarabajo.livejournal.com]

A sigh.

"Keep drinking, at least. Please? People get 20 percent of their daily water intake through food."