fandom_clinic | FTEC, Monday, January 28

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FTEC, Monday, January 28 - Day Shift

The nurses were fighting. It wasn't every day they had a patient to take care of. A male patient. A hot male patient. So unsuprisingly, there were several arguments about who got to check on said patient, take his vitals, change his bandages, fluff his . . . pillows.

[ooc: mod a nurse; if you would like interaction with a doctor, ping me at Chaos of Passion on AIM.]

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Peter didn't let go. "Sam, I swear to God one of these days I'm going to find out how to tattoo the words 'self-healing, jackass' to the inside of your eyelids so I don't have to keep repeating myself."

"Okay, fine. You'd be fine. But what about everyone else?" Sam asked. "The clinic has been full for days with people who got hurt because they were trying to protect me. How am I supposed to deal with that?"

"Feel bad, try to help them, figure out how to do it better next time," Peter said. "And by the way it's not your choice to make. I'm saying that both to help with that guilt you're feeling, and to let you know it's going to be a huge waste of your time to try to convince me not to help you."

"I'm still going to try," Sam said quietly. "What kind of person would I be if I knew how to keep people safe, and didn't try?"

"Trying is okay," Peter said. "Running off to be by yourself is not. And before you argue that let me remind you about how you're talking to the guy who blows up a city."

"You're not going to blow up a city. Maybe you should get that tattooed on your eyelids," Sam said, before sighing. "My dad has a friend named Bobby. He knows all sorts of out of the way places where someone can survive on their own." Not that he'd been thinking about that or anything.

Peter could see how logic wasn't getting him anywhere. So he said, "No."

"I could do it. It would be good for everyone," he said, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. "I don't know what else to do."

Peter resisted the urge to wipe Sam's tears away. "Still no."

"Dean almost died, Peter," Sam said, stubbornly continuing. "Remember how you felt last week? How you said you'd do anything to keep Nathan from dying? Why can't I do the same thing for Dean?"

Peter tried to meet Sam's eyes. With a completely straight face he replied, "Because I said so."

That didn't exactly make Sam feel less stubborn. "You expect me to keep everyone I care about in danger because you said so? What, Dean means less than Nathan, so I should just let him stay at risk?"

"Sam, if you go Dean will go after you and I will go after you and Nathan will go after me," Peter said. "And not for nothing but what's to stop the demon from going after everybody while you're gone? He's a demon, Sam. He's not going to tell the truth or keep promises or be nice to the people you care about because you play his game."

"I--I don't know, okay?" Sam said, and if he was sounding frantic again, he couldn't help it. "I don't know what would stop him. I spent all night thinking about what he said to me and I still don't know what to do."

Peter went to hug him tighter. "Yeah. How dare you not come up with a plan in the five minutes you've had to think since your family was attached, your father was possessed, and you've had - what? A second to think about sleep? And you call yourself a nerd."

Sam let himself sink against Peter, and stopped trying to hold back. He had to stay composed in front of everyone else, but with Peter, it was different.

"Peter, I'm really scared," he said quietly, sounding ashamed to be admitting it.

"I get that," Peter said, just as quietly. Since hey: last week it had been his turn. He rubbed Sam's back. "It'll be okay. We'll figure something out."

"There doesn't have to be a we," Sam said, wanting to make sure that was clear.

"Doesn't have to be," Peter agreed. "But there is."

Sam let out a long sigh and nodded. If he wasn't so tired, he'd be up for more arguing, but not today. "Thank you," he said, pulling back just enough to look at Peter. "Sorry about kind of falling apart on you."

"Don't worry about it," Peter said. "After last week I owed you one."

"You're my best friend, Peter. You never owe me one," Sam said.

Peter gave Sam a light bump on the arm. "Damn right."

Sam relaxed a little. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was going on," he said. "Focusing on your stuff was easier."

"Call it even?" Peter suggested. "Otherwise it's the magic fight again and I don't want to do that. Just... you're not alone, Sam. There's people outside of your family who care about you, want to help, and - " Peter tried for a small grin " - happen to have pretty cool powers."

Re: Front Desk

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Re: Front Desk

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