paterelohim | IC contact: Sirenspull

I'm capable of doing it.

[He sighs and pinches his nose.]

Cas. You've helped me in and out of my wheelchair about, what, eighty times now? I just... come on, I know you can, but.

It doesn't matter.

[Chuck presses his lips together and whips up a quick chocolate martini- a very small one, the equivalent of two shots.]

Here. Trust me- it's all you'll need.

[Wheeling up to the table, picking up his popsicle again from the wrapper and finishing it off.]

You want some chocolate syrup in that?

This is fine.

Are you intending to send this?

[Chuck is a deer in headlights for about two seconds, then reaches out to snatch his NV away.]

No. [When he looks at the message again it's like he's seeing it with new eyes: every jab, every passive-aggressive stab and cutting remark that would have been so devastating for Sam to read. Even in his still-potent anger at the man, it strikes him as twisted that Chuck, with his intimate emotional insight into what moves and drives Sam, into his demons and innermost thoughts, should use that to know how best to hurt him.

He snaps the NV shut, tense and temporarily mollified.]

He would probably deserve it- but no.

He wasn't himself.

[It makes sense. On some level, Chuck knows this.]

I don't really care. Every morning when you wake up you look like a six year old who just realized that their puppy was hit by a car.

So. Yeah. Nope. In this recession economy? I don't have a fuck to give.

I'm fine.

We likely should be more concerned than we have been about the situation itself. We don't know what effect angel blood may have, how long the effects will last, or what may happen it wears off. And if he had such an intense craving for demon blood, he may again.

[He lets a long moment lapse in silence, leaning on the table with his face buried in one hand.]

There's a reason I've been so anal about letting you outside alone.

It's unlikely I would be at risk.

However others might be.

Who, Gabriel and Lucifer? I think they'll be okay.

If Sam stops being "himself" again, then not-he will know who the vulnerable one is. He wouldn't want to pick on someone his own size.

Figuratively. I don't think anybody's his own size.

If he chose an angel while desiring demon blood, any supernatural being may be a potential substitute.

Edited 2011-09-09 07:25 (UTC)

[Fuuuuuck. Chuck bangs his head against the table then turns his wheelchair around and follows him.]

Cas! Don't do that, man.

Edited 2011-09-09 07:39 (UTC)

I wasn't trying to say that you're weak. I mean- fucking look at me.

That's just... no. [He grips the wheel handles tightly, chewing on his lip for a second to think.]

You're human, that's not...

Honestly? Anyone who actually thinks less of you probably doesn't deserve to know you.

[Chick flick moment. Hnngh.]

My point still stands.

[Chuck nods tersely, gaze flickering elsewhere idly.]

Sam was already messed up beyond repair from Detroit- we have no idea what this could do.

Why?

Don't you remember? You said- you said that the amount of demon blood it would take to kill Lilith would.. change Sam forever. Into something not human.

But... Sam took a lot more than that when he went to say yes.

I remember. And ultimately very little came of it.

That might indeed be a factor in some way, however.

Well- no, actually. While he was killing Lilith, his body temperature was one fifty, his heart rate was two hundred- and his eyes went black. Whatever got him and Dean out of that Church cleaned him up.

[Fidget fidget.] Having angel blood could do something even worse.

I know. Perhaps we should attempt to contact him.

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