the further i fall, the less i falter [closed]

[upstairsbrain]

Who: Sam and John Winchester.
When: Sunday night.
Where: John's place.
Summary: Explanations, apologies, the usual.
Warnings: It's the Winchesters, so... man pain and angst.

[ His visit was unannounced, despite the inkling that maybe he should check to see if the guy was around before stopping by. Regardless, Sam stands outside the door of his father's place, hand hovering near the door. Dammit. After everything that had happened, this probably wasn't the best thing for his nerves, but... it'd be good for his conscience. One way or another. He had to do it; he'd known that this talk was oncoming for a while now. So.

There's another few seconds of hesitation, and then he knocks. ]

Comments

[failedparenting]

[Unfortunately, Sam came around at the exact wrong time. John's already headed for bed- well, he's asleep on the couch, at least. He's been so tired lately, emotionally and physically, but he's reluctant to blame it on anything. The options are: a)he's just getting old, or b)he's doing even worse keeping his family together.

So he's just pretending nothing's wrong now. Yep, that's healthy.

The knock on his door only startles him out of a light sleep, but it's still enough to piss him off. Who the hell comes around after sirens, anyway? They got a death wish?

He hauls himself off the couch, and shuffles to the door. He's all ready to bitch out and send away whoever's on the other side, but his brain goes screeching to a halt when he sees who it is. And fuck, he can't send the kid back out.

Jesus Christ, how many times is he going to find Sam at his front door like this?]

Get in.

[upstairsbrain]

[ Is there ever a 'right' time? He doubts it. The expression on John's face is... discouraging, to say the least, but he can't leave now. Not when he's made the resolution to actually go through with this.

There's a very terse moment, during which he looks back at his father, definitely unsure, and then: ]

Yeah. [ And he moves inside. ]

[failedparenting]

[Once Sam is in far enough, John shuts the door a little too forcefully. He's in no mood, but at least Sam kept his promise to come back this time.

Then, of course, he makes a beeline for the kitchen and, more importantly, the liquor cabinet.

And he'd been doing so good today, too.]

You want a drink?

[upstairsbrain]

[ Oh, alcoholism. The Winchester way. Sam pauses a few seconds, and then admits defeat. ]

Sure. Thanks.

[ Might as well, right? ]

[failedparenting]

[It's a proud family tradition, not a disease. Gawd Sam.]

Anything specific?

[upstairsbrain]

[ That is the opposite of what it is, man. >: ]

Anything's fine. [ He doesn't request his usual Jack, because. Reasons. ]