Left to process through some of those things far too quickly for his tastes, Sam pushes a hand through his Pert Plus hair and gives his head a scrub with his fingertips like he's trying to make room for something up there. Dean, Cas — it's a good start. Claire doesn't ring any bells, but then again, based on what Jo's saying, she wouldn't. And it certainly wouldn't be new thing for them to have access to time travel.
"I have so many questions," Sam says, vastly understating his point. Every question spawns another question, every answer spawns five more follow-ups. And that's not even addressing– the rest. How they got there, why they're there, who brought them there, and what they're needed for. Why this place, why this atmosphere? It can't hardly be real and yet possesses a quality of being Sam can't quite deny.
"The usual ones apply, but I think I need to know, is everyone safe here?" A tentative question, one that's meant to probe Jo's honest streak for the hard answers Sam knows will be held back otherwise. He mostly means how is everyone? but he can't been seen asking directly, can he? Not when it's clear these circumstances are less than ideal. Beyond that, he also means is everyone getting along? because they certainly have their fair share of issues with that.
"And what's this?" he asks, gesturing to Jo, turning his body and his head to try to re-align his view. He can see on her wrist — the inside left from where he's standing — the gentle hint of letters, rimmed red just so in its healing state.
E.H. The meaning isn't lost on him and he wants to ask is she here, too? but doesn't. It's more data for his addled mind, but not the kind you go asking after at a friend's expense. All the answers will come with time (or they won't, which Sam concedes could be fine, too, under the right circumstances).
no subject
"I have so many questions," Sam says, vastly understating his point. Every question spawns another question, every answer spawns five more follow-ups. And that's not even addressing– the rest. How they got there, why they're there, who brought them there, and what they're needed for. Why this place, why this atmosphere? It can't hardly be real and yet possesses a quality of being Sam can't quite deny.
"The usual ones apply, but I think I need to know, is everyone safe here?" A tentative question, one that's meant to probe Jo's honest streak for the hard answers Sam knows will be held back otherwise. He mostly means how is everyone? but he can't been seen asking directly, can he? Not when it's clear these circumstances are less than ideal. Beyond that, he also means is everyone getting along? because they certainly have their fair share of issues with that.
"And what's this?" he asks, gesturing to Jo, turning his body and his head to try to re-align his view. He can see on her wrist — the inside left from where he's standing — the gentle hint of letters, rimmed red just so in its healing state.
E.H. The meaning isn't lost on him and he wants to ask is she here, too? but doesn't. It's more data for his addled mind, but not the kind you go asking after at a friend's expense. All the answers will come with time (or they won't, which Sam concedes could be fine, too, under the right circumstances).