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[is sitting in the living room, keeping an eye on Michael in his playpen. Ever since he started walking, he's been getting into EVERYTHING, and when Bela had to work from home, it was best to just keep him contained. she's on the couch, flipping through one of the books she needed for research, and occasionally glancing up to make sure her son was still where she left him]
Current Mood: workingworking
28 April 2010 @ 11:18 am
Of course on the first warm weekend of spring when they could go to Central Park as a family, Bela would get sick. Sam wanted to tease her that it was normally his bad luck that would have him laid up in bed, but hearing her moan during the night and feeling how hot her skin was let his worrying nature take over instead.

He got up extra early to make the kids breakfast and get them settled in the living room watching cartoons when he made his way back to their bedroom with some orange juice and toast as well as some aspirin.

"You feeling any better?" he asked softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching to brush the hair from her forehead.
Current Location: NYC
Current Mood: crappyconcerned
It'd been a few days since she'd make her deal with the devil (no pun intended), and Anna- no, Brooke, now- had spent the day watching her own funeral. The numbness from Beretti's murder was keeping her from feeling much guilt about all the pain she'd apparently caused when she "died". In a way, it was comforting to know she'd made an impact on so many lives. But that was in the past. She needed to adjust to this new body, new identity, and new life she'd picked out for herself.

Tonight, she was going to bid this city goodbye with booze. And what better place than a dingy hole-in-the-wall bar hidden away in Little Italy where she wouldn't get harassed because she was pretty.

"Bartender, gimme a White Russian." Oh yeah, she was gonna get good and wasted tonight.
Current Location: Little Italy, Manhattan
Current Mood: numbnumb
Current Music: Usual drunken chatter
It had started at the playground. Sam was getting into the habit now that springtime had come of taking baby Michael to the park. He would lather the baby up in sunscreen - no skin cancer on his son - and then sit on a blanket in the grass.

Michael was starting to learn to sit up, so Sam would stretch out on his side, reading a book while he son was propped up against his legs and playing with a swinging toy that Sam had straddling them both.

A few feet away, two mothers were playing with their infants, teaching them a word and then showing them the sign for it. After a moment, Sam put down his book and watched them.

"What are you guys doing?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Sign language." One of the mothers looked at him. "Since Cynthia can't speak yet, it's a good way for her to communicate her needs to me."

"You mean crying isn't enough?" Sam joked... he learned that wasn't something to joke about real quickly.

. . .Collapse )
18 April 2009 @ 01:44 pm
Bela had been stretched out on the couch when she first felt it.

She was home with Dean while Sam was out food shopping for the week, and it had been a relatively easy afternoon so far. Bela had parked herself on the couch and Dean was staying out of her way to avoid waiting on her hand and foot. She found that was a rather agreeable arrangement, as it kept Dean out of her hair, and severely lessened her need to shoot him, which made Sam happier. And really, she was all for making Sam happier. She had been flipping through the channels when she felt the sharp pain in her back and stomach, her body pitching forward slightly as she did.

It took her a minute to realize what it was, before her eyes went wide in horror, and she started shouting into the apartment. "DEAN!"

"What?!" Dean grumbled slightly as he poked his head out of the kitchen giving her a look.

"It's time."

Dean looked confused for a moment, before responding. "Whadaya mean it's time?"

She looked back at him exasperated, before another shock of pain rocked through her, and now she was glaring. "The baby is coming, you idiot!"

Dean's eyes went wide, before he started to walk over to her, getting her up off the couch and running her towards the door. She gripped his arm tightly, before looking over at him. "Sam."

"Right. Here." He pulled the phone out of his pocket, handing it to her before continuing to nudge her towards the door. Bela pulled up his number as quickly as she could, before hitting send and placing the phone to her ear, begging Sam to pick up as soon as possible.
Current Mood: scaredscared
Sam was in the doorway when she answered the door. He was panting hard from having run up the stairs - afraid that the hell hounds had come early. They had fought down to the last minute and Sam had feared the worst.

But now he stood there, bloody and bruised, panting for breath as he looked at the redhead on the other side of the door. The fear in her eyes that shifted to confusion, then understanding.

The sun was starting to rise, and it was Sam that came to her door, and not the hell hounds.

"Sam?" she asked softly, looking past him just in case there were hounds behind him, but there weren't. "What happened?"

Her hand went to cup his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into it a moment. Then he took a quick step in and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close as he kissed her hard. Sam could feel her start a moment, then she relaxed and kissed him back as her hands went up around his neck.

Moving her further into the living room, he kicked the door shut. He leaned her against the wall, just kissing her until he was out of breath and leaned his head back. Bela took a deep breath, then looked up at him. "Sam?"

"We did it," he said softly, looking down at her with a small smile. "We did it, and you're safe now, and I'm home. To stay."
08 April 2009 @ 08:25 pm
They didn't have a lot of time to be able to pull this off, so Sam had dove right into the books to look up this demon, Ruby. Of course there was nothing there, so they had to stoop to other methods to find out who she was.

After all, you have to know something to be able to summon the demon.

A few quick jobs and some interrogation sessions that left Dean very happy afterward, and they knew enough about the demon called Ruby to summon her.

Sam looked around the basement of the warehouse they planned to do this. He had finished setting up the summoning spell, just needed to do the incantation and light the herbs for the magic pot.

"You set on your end, Dean?" Sam looked over his shoulder at his brother.
11 March 2009 @ 11:18 am
ooc: takes place after this

Sam didn't head back to Bela's place - he'd forgotten about dinner at this point - but went to his brother's motel room and knocked on the door loudly.

"Dean, it's me," he called through the door. The Impala was in the parking lot in front of the door, so he knew his brother was in. He just hoped that he was alone.
22 February 2009 @ 06:50 pm
It was a day or two after the crossroads visit and beyond from locking Bela up in a demon-proof panic room - which Bobby mentioned he might know of a few - San was coming to the sad conclusion that he was out of options.

There was nothing else he could do, and he was going to lose his wife and child right in front of his eyes. He could already see Bela giving up the faint glimmer of hope she had in him, and the looks Dean gave him sometimes...

He decided to take a long walk to get dinner for him and Bela. As he passed the bank, a girl scout was set up, boxes of cookies on his table. Thinking that his brother would be happy for them, Sam went over to get his brother a box of Tag-alongs.

"Thanks sweetie," Sam said as he exchanged his $3.50 for a box.
13 February 2009 @ 03:48 pm
She wasn't sure about this.

Logic was telling her that she was placing too much hope in Sam, which was making her start to second guess her every move. She didn't want to fight them on this, on the off chance it might work, but she couldn't let herself get her hopes up too high, just in case they couldn't fix it. Just in case the demon wouldn't deal, just in case, she couldn't get what she was looking for. She didn't have enough time to worry about things like this, and if only this had happened a year earlier, maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be in this mess.

She hesitated on the stairs as she came into the living room, her hand on the railing as she watched him sleep. This was her fault, really. She dragged him into this mess when she should have known better, and now she was stuck. Stuck in a situation she never thought she'd be in and things were spinning far too out of control for her to manage, but this was what she had to do. Apparently, there was no way out after this. All she could do was hang on and see what happens.

She just hoped it didn't follow it's usual course and wind up blowing up in her face.
Current Mood: stressedstressed