The Journal of Sam Winchester

One of the downsides to having a dog was the sheer number of times Sam was dragged out into the cold and the dark to take Scout on a walk. If they were going to be outside tonight (Sam didn't have to take Scout out, but he'd spent all these years spoiling Scout at every turn, so he couldn't make himself stop now), then Sam was going to multitask, and that meant practicing his telekinesis by pushing snow and rocks and dirt out of Scout's way as they walked. He'd been getting a lot better with his abilities over the past weeks as he'd quietly practiced, and he was pretty sure that the next time he went to see Anakin, he'd be able to say that he had them all under control.

Which was why he was caught off guard when suddenly, almost out of nowhere, he started having a vision.

The warning headache came early enough that Sam was able to get up against a tree before everything went white, and suddenly he found himself looking at a skyline - Bangkok, the nerdy part of his mind provided - and then at Chuck Bass, of all people, smoking a pipe. It wasn't until Chuck slumped and passed out that everything cleared, and Sam found himself sitting against the tree, with Scout whining and licking his face.

For all that he'd been worrying about Chuck, Sam hadn't actually been afraid for him until now. He didn't have visions unless something was seriously wrong (except for Peter, the darker voice in the back of his mind pointed out, but Sam did his best to ignore that), and the fact that Chuck was one of the few people Sam never expected to see had him even more concerned. He was grateful that the sun wasn't out to make his headache worse, but he still kept his eyes closed as he fished around in his pocket for his phone and dialed 411. Chuck might get pissed at him later for this, but at least there was a chance he'd be around for Sam to deal with.

"Hi, I need a number in New York. The name? Let me try van der Woodsen."

[Establishy!]

For all that Dean told him not to be, Sam still felt kind of guilty about all the lunches Dean brought him on his library visits now that he was getting pretty good at being in the kitchen himself. Lawyering Up had gotten him thinking about things he didn't want to think about, and focusing his attention on not burning down the common room's kitchen was the perfect distraction. After remaking the chicken soup recipe from cooking class, Sam made sure there was enough for Dean, put it in a container for him, and brought it up to his room. Now all he needed was for his brother to actually be there.

( If only they could have a peaceful meal... )

[Pre-played with saltandammo, NFI, OOC=<3]

Sam hadn't really had that long of a day, but it certainly felt like it when he came back and crashed on his bed. As the evening wore on, he waited patiently to see if Dawn would come by the room, to make him feel like an idiot talk again, or even just to get more clothes. When it became apparent that he'd be spending yet another night alone, he sighed sadly, and went to get ready to go to sleep.

He'd just barely stood up from his bed when he collapsed back onto it, clutching at a sudden pain in his head, and he just barely recognized what the pain meant before the vision hit him.

( Cut for vision-y goodness! )

Snapping out of one of his visions was hard enough for Sam without having to struggle with being alone when the images cleared. He put his palms at his temples, and shut his eyes tightly, while trying to get his breathing under control. After a few slow, shaky breaths, Sam began thinking about what he was going to say to Dean and Dawn about what he'd seen.

And then it hit him. He didn't have to tell the two of them, not about what he'd seen, or about the fact that he'd had a vision at all. As soon as he realized what he was suggesting to himself, Sam felt horrible for even considering the option of not doing anything. But the more he thought about it - thought about the past week, about his fights with his brother and his girlfriend - the more it seemed like maybe letting Alec disappear wasn't such a bad option after all.

For the moment, all Sam really wanted to do was lay back down on his bed and try to massage his headache away. If he woke up early enough, he could tell Dean about the vision in the morning. Maybe.

[Establishy and NFB please!]