saturday night and the moon is out

[feel_human]

Tucked away off the road in Bon Temps, there's a road house. Warm light spills from its windows, and the sound of a jukebox playing drifts out into the muggy Louisiana night. The regular assortment of trucks and Hail-Mary-please-keep-this-lemon-goin'-just-a-little-longer cars sit in the dirt parking lot; what amounts to about half the town's small population... or, at least, of those of the 'drinking age and above' persuasion.

Inside, it's a bar of the type scattered all across the American South: homey, no-nonsense. Booths and tables. A man in a plaid flannel shirt wiping the bar; a crossdresser in the kitchen singing Gospel hymns and rolling his hips in time with the words just to scandalize the prep cook. A handful of waitresses, bustling about.

Sookie makes her way briskly through it all, a tray balanced on her palm and her eyes kept stubbornly front, as voices swarm around her. Aloud, and... less so.

...I’m just going to have one beer tonight Jesus one beer that’s all...

...better not gripe about me eating fries not after what I did for him last night...

...I cannot wait to get the hell out of this podunk town...

 

 "Well, make sure you do, and before it’s too late," she responds, thoughtless, to the young man. "Because every year you wait? You just get more and more stuck here. Believe me, I know."

He stares at her. So do his parents.

So does the other table. And she realizes, too little too late, that he hadn't said that out loud, not at all. She laughs, uncomfortable. "I’ll get y'all some ketchup," she says, brightly, and flees, ponytail swinging against the nape of her neck as she goes.

Stupid, Sookie, she chides herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

 

Comments

[gavemea_45]

It's a long way from where he'd been to Palo Alto. In more ways than one.

Sam'd figured the best way to go about it was to head down South and swing over across country from there, sticking to the small towns and side roads and back ways, just in case. He knows those better, and it'll be easier to keep an eye out for Dad-- for John, in case he hadn't meant what he'd said about never coming back if he left.

For Dean, too, if - if his brother decides to support - if he's ... well. Sam shunts the thought aside with the ease of long practice at avoiding awkward things as he pulls up in front of the road house and shuts off the bike.

Just another small town with its local watering hole. Maybe if he's lucky he can get something decent to eat and pick up some cash at pool to pay for it. His luck there hasn't been running too bad this last week or so, at least. He scans the area around out of automatic caution and walks into Merlotte's.

[feel_human]

She avoids Sam's glance as she sets her tray down at the bar and selects a bottle of ketchup, but there's no avoiding his thoughts.

...just wish I could help, come on, just talk to me...

Behind the bar, the phone rings; Sam picks it up and cradles the handset against his shoulder. "Evenin', Merlotte's..."

His blue eyes flick toward Sookie. "Hey, Tara."

She gives him an apologetic glance and accepts the handset as the screen door creaks open, admitting a tall young man with shaggy hair and serious eyes. Sam lifts his eyebrows at Arlene, who pretends she doesn't see, and Sookie sighs, covers the speaker with her palm. "I'll be right with him," she tells Sam. "Soon as I'm done. Promise, Sam."

He winks at her and nods the young man over to an empty booth in Sookie's section as Tara goes on in her ear.

[gavemea_45]

The bartender nods him to a booth. Sam notes that the guy seems friendly enough, rather than any of the territorial kind of skepticism that's the flip side of the coin in towns like these, and allows himself to relax a fraction as he tips his head back in acknowledgement and makes his way to the indicated spot.

He slides in and gives the place a fast once-over. It doesn't have too rough a feel to it, no simmering edge of trouble waiting to break-- although he can see how it could swing that way pretty fast on the wrong kind of night, with the wrong kind of crowd.

Hopefully that's not tonight, though. He waits for one of the waitresses to wander over and spends the time studying the room.

[feel_human]

She rolls her eyes at Tara's griping and hangs up the phone, just as Dawn comes sauntering over, all glossy dark hair and swaying hips. But there's something uncharacteristically serious in her green eyes tonight, as she leans on the bar and looks at Sookie. "Mack and Louise Rattray are just about to sit down in your section."

Sookie closes her eyes. The Rattrays. Just what she needs.

Sam exchanges a glance with Dawn, then gives Sookie a steady look. "Don’t let ‘em get to you, cher," he murmurs. "They’re not worth it."

She gives him a bright, plastic smile, and turns in a swish of ponytail. Dawn's right: the Rattray's are taking the booth one down from the young man who'd just come in. That's a small favor, at least; she can deal with him, first. By now, hopefully he's had time enough to peruse the laminated menu tucked neatly between the napkin holder and salt and pepper shakers.

She comes over at a brisk walk, pulling out her pad and pen as she does. "Hi," she greets him, her voice sweet and clear with a Louisiana lilt. "Welcome to Merlotte's. What can I get..."

... There's something odd about him, the space around him strangely muffled. She frowns, shakes her head and smiles, self-deprecating, and soldiers on. "What can I get you?"

[gavemea_45]

"Hi," Sam says. He's not sure why she's frowning at him, but she shakes it off quickly enough, and he tries to make his smile friendly to counter whatever it was. Dean would already be giving her one of his lazy here-I-am-come-and-get-it looks, but Sam's pretty sure she'd just rather be left alone.

"Think I could get the cheeseburger and - any chance of swapping out the fries for the black-eyed peas? And a side of the, um, collard greens?"

It's the least fried thing on the menu, anyway, and he knows better than to order the chef's salad in a place like this.

"With a beer, please. Thanks."

[feel_human]

"Sure thing."

He's got kind eyes, and his hair sort of flops over into them. She'd be willing to bet Dawn's eating her heart out right now, not getting a chance to sink her teeth into this out-of-towner – but taking him would mean taking the Rattrays, too. And that's not a deal anyone would want.

She smiles a little at his accent. "Not from around here, huh?"

[gavemea_45]

His smile turns a little sheepish. "Guess it's pretty obvious, huh."

[feel_human]

"Well, I know everyone in town," she tells him, smiling back. In contrast, hers is bright and friendly. "So – "

"Hey!"

She almost jumps clean out of her skin at the rapped word from Mack Rattray, who's leaning over the booth seat to glare at her. "You ever comin' to take our order?"

Sookie's smile doesn't dim, but something about it turns plastic and forced. "Right with you," she says, sweetly, and gives her customer an apologetic glance. "I'll get that order right in for you."

[gavemea_45]

Sam gives the rude jerk a pointed look and turns back to the waitress. "No rush," he reassures her. "I'm not in a hurry."

[gavemea_45]

He makes good use of the time after leaving Sookie's house. Sam wanders through town, trying to make it look as aimless as possible, stopping in at a couple of stores before he heads to the library to look through what he can find of Renard Parish historical records and newspaper archives. He listens to what gossip he can overhear as he buys a silver necklace and bracelet and set of earrings, and gives the proprietor an easy smile as he leaves.

It's only twenty-two miles to Shreveport, he discovers, and makes a quick trip over there too. A hardware store gives him what he needs for tools; a pawn shop gives him someone's silver candlesticks; the hunting supply gives him a flare gun and a shotgun and lets him restock his ammo. He'll need every bit he can get.

He pulls over on an isolated side road to saw the barrel off the shotgun and to file half a candlestick into shavings that he loads together with silver-bead shot into shells for the shotgun and for his Taurus, replacing the lead bullets. He adds an extra can of gasoline to the back of the bike, strapping it down tight, stashes things about him and in the saddlebags as appropriate, and heads back to Bon Temps in good time to walk into Merlotte's before the sun sets.

[feel_human]

"Arrested? For what?"

She stares at Dawn, her iced tea order forgotten. The other girl looks uncomfortable. "I don't know – "

Lafayette, swanning by, stops and backtracks. "Sorry about your brother, Sook."

She feels like her head is going to explode. "How come everybody knew about this before I did?"

"Well, I was there, I saw 'em cart him off," Lafayette starts, and Dawn comes up with a convoluted game of telephone between her and Arlene and Rene. "Besides," she says, uncomfortable. "We figured you'd just..."

Sookie stares at her. "I just what?"

Dawn and Lafayette exchange awkward glances before Dawn looks back at her. "Sweetie, didn't you just know already?"

That pushes her over the edge, her temper boiling over until she's seeing red. "I am not psychic!" she spits, and grabs her tray to storm back off into the dining room.

[gavemea_45]

He catches a level look from the bartender-slash-owner, the other Sam, and decides to face it head-on. Instead of taking a table just yet, Sam meanders across the room to the bar and grabs a stool a few down from where Merlotte's polishing glasses.

"Hey," he starts, only to startle when Sookie slams out of the back in a high temper. Sam swivels on the stool. "Sookie?"

[feel_human]

"Not now, Sam."

It works for both of them as she storms by, heading to the pool table where a tipsy Arlene is giggling while Rene and Hoyt drink. "What happened to my brother, Rene?"

He straightens, pool cue in hand, and gives her a rueful look. "Aw, hell, I promised him I wouldn't tell you, you."

Her hands land on her hips and she gives him a hard glare. "What. Happened?"

[gavemea_45]

He trades a look with Merlotte and turns to watch the show, listening hard. Music or not, they're not keeping their voices down, so it's easy enough to hear when one of the guys he doesn't know stammers, "Uh, well, Bud Dearborne and Andy Bellefleur, um-- they asked him some questions, and then they just threw him in the back of the squad car."

Sam winces. Looks like Jason's shiftiness earlier had a reason after all.

[feel_human]

They're all looking at her like she's made of spun sugar, like Jason's already been tried and convicted and sentenced, and it only makes her madder. "Y'all are already acting like Jason’s guilty of killing Maudette, and we don’t even know what they were talking to him about," she snaps, loud enough that more than a few heads turn. "Bud Dearborne just made a mistake, that’s all."

"Oh, yeah," Hoyt says, happy to believe it. He's always admired Jason, though he's got little enough reason to. "Has to be. Jason’s a real stand-up guy."

She sighs. "No, he’s not, Hoyt." She might love her brother, but he's got his share of flaws, and more than. "He’s selfish, egotistical, and a complete horndog. But he’s not a killer."

Shooting a last glare around, she stomps back toward the bar, feeling like a nest of hornets that's gotten kicked up.

[gavemea_45]

He's her brother, so of course she'd believe him, but the thing is - Sam could see it. If Jason had witnessed something no one'd want to believe... he might be in trouble.

He waits for Sookie to reach the bar and gives her a steady look, waiting to see if she's ready to talk.

[feel_human]

Her tray clatters to the bartop as she comes up, fuming, her cheeks in high color and her eyes bright and snapping. "He didn't do it," she says, in response to that patient glance Sam's giving her.

"Jason's an idiot and he's always in some kind of trouble, but he didn't murder anybody. He couldn't."

[feel_human]

It might seem strange that she'd managed a normal evening and even to sleep the whole night through after hearing what Sookie and Sam Winchester had to say, but Adele Stackhouse has long believed there is far more to this world than meets the eye. How could she not, after marrying Earl, after raising Sookie?

So she'd slept, and awoken refreshed in the early morning sun. There's little chance Sookie will be awake yet, she knows, not after closing the night before, so she keeps her steps quiet as she leaves her room and moves out into the hall, only to see Sookie's door standing open.

That's unusual. She steps as quietly as she can, not wanting to wake Sookie, and glances inside, just before her eyes widen in surprise.

For it's not just Sookie, sleeping there in her bed, a lump of sheets and quilt and golden hair. And it's not just Tina, curled there between her mistress's feet.

Sam Winchester is there, too, fully dressed and lying on top of the covers, his arm curved protectively over Sookie's side. Adele watches them for a moment, then carefully pulls the door almost shut and creeps down the stairs, smiling to herself.

[gavemea_45]

He’s not sure what alerts him; some shift in the air, maybe. Sam opens his eyes and realizes two things almost immediately.

One, it’s morning. Two, he’s still in Sookie’s room.

He manages to keep from bolting upright, and instead carefully eases his way from the bed, holding his breath when she stirs. He peeks into the hall - no sign of Adele.

Sam lets out a relieved breath and sneaks back to his room to get cleaned up and changed before going downstairs in search of coffee.

[feel_human]

The kitchen is full of the scent of coffee and cooked breakfast, and Adele is sitting at the table, reading over the paper when Sam comes down.

"Mornin'," she says, warmly. "Eggs and bacon in the oven for you, Sam, if you're hungry."

[gavemea_45]

“I am,” he admits. “Thank you, Mrs. Stackhouse.” Sam retrieves a clean mug and pours himself a cup of coffee, then holds up the pot.

“Need a refill?”

[feel_human]

"Oh, thank you." She offers out her mug and smiles at him, some mischief in her eyes.

"Sleep okay?"

[gavemea_45]

“Uh, yes ma’am,” he says. Sam pours her mug full, willing himself not to flush, then sets the pot back on its base.

“Did you?” He cracks the oven door and peers inside.

[feel_human]

"Oh, yes."

She sips at her coffee, watching him. The plate in the oven is loaded, not just with eggs and bacon, but with a large pile of home-fried potatoes and a couple of biscuits for good measure.

Conversationally, she adds: "So you know, Sam, Sookie normally sleeps with her door closed."

[gavemea_45]

He freezes in the act of reaching for the plate and gives her a panicked look.

“Um.”