After pushing the memory of Max's lifeless body aside, Sam asked, "You're psychic and sane. Am I gonna lose it?" He prayed that the answer would be "no."
Frowning, Scott studied his hands for a few long moments. Frustration joined his exhaustion. Finally he replied, "I don't know. Ami might. Or Damon. But they're not here." Scott glanced at the Doctor's unnaturally still form on the far side of the campfire. "You could ask the Doctor, too. He's telepathic. His bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired, though." Sam echoed Scott's wan smile at the attempt at humor.
"Before coming here I knew of only one other psychic -- my dad," Scott continued. He broke eye contact, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. "Apparently there are all sorts of psychics. A few of the different type are here, along with witches, time travelers, and all sort of other weirdness." The older man met Sam's eyes. "I think you need to find out if anyone here with psychic abilities is like you. I can tell you who you're not like: the Doctor, Ripley, River, and me."
Sam frowned thoughtfully. "How do you know that?"
"Deduction," Scott replied with a cryptic smile that soon faded to seriousness. "If there's a physical component to your headaches, I might be able to help with that." He stifled a yawn. "Starting tomorrow. I'm telekinetic, too, so I show you how to practice if you want." Sam shivered involuntarily at the thought of deliberately trying to use the abilities that, along with the demon, were ruining his life. Scott gave him a sympathetic smile. "I was freaked out at first, too. Try to get past it. Telekinesis is really, really useful."
Sam nodded despite his lingering apprehension. Scott yawned again, prompting Sam to do the same. "Thanks," Sam said sincerely. "I'll sleep on it."
"Okay," Scott agreed as he got to his feet. "See you in the morning."
"Yeah. Bright and early, I'm sure." With a tired smile Scott moved back to the campfire. Sam watched him for a moment longer, wondering what sort of psychic he was. (Hell, I'd like to know what sort of psychic *I* am.) Sighing, Sam returned his attention to the fledgling wooden amulet. He was too keyed up to sleep just yet.
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timeasmymeasure
[Sam] Sanity check (open tag)
Date: 2006-08-09 06:55 pm (UTC)Frowning, Scott studied his hands for a few long moments. Frustration joined his exhaustion. Finally he replied, "I don't know. Ami might. Or Damon. But they're not here." Scott glanced at the Doctor's unnaturally still form on the far side of the campfire. "You could ask the Doctor, too. He's telepathic. His bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired, though." Sam echoed Scott's wan smile at the attempt at humor.
"Before coming here I knew of only one other psychic -- my dad," Scott continued. He broke eye contact, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. "Apparently there are all sorts of psychics. A few of the different type are here, along with witches, time travelers, and all sort of other weirdness." The older man met Sam's eyes. "I think you need to find out if anyone here with psychic abilities is like you. I can tell you who you're not like: the Doctor, Ripley, River, and me."
Sam frowned thoughtfully. "How do you know that?"
"Deduction," Scott replied with a cryptic smile that soon faded to seriousness. "If there's a physical component to your headaches, I might be able to help with that." He stifled a yawn. "Starting tomorrow. I'm telekinetic, too, so I show you how to practice if you want." Sam shivered involuntarily at the thought of deliberately trying to use the abilities that, along with the demon, were ruining his life. Scott gave him a sympathetic smile. "I was freaked out at first, too. Try to get past it. Telekinesis is really, really useful."
Sam nodded despite his lingering apprehension. Scott yawned again, prompting Sam to do the same. "Thanks," Sam said sincerely. "I'll sleep on it."
"Okay," Scott agreed as he got to his feet. "See you in the morning."
"Yeah. Bright and early, I'm sure." With a tired smile Scott moved back to the campfire. Sam watched him for a moment longer, wondering what sort of psychic he was. (Hell, I'd like to know what sort of psychic *I* am.) Sighing, Sam returned his attention to the fledgling wooden amulet. He was too keyed up to sleep just yet.