(cont. from Part One)
~
"John, I don't know what to do if Sam doesn't come back-- I love him, and I thought he loved me, and I don't have anywhere else to go--"
"Don't worry Caroline, I'll take care of you," John said.
"You will?"
"Of course. You and I can work to find a way to fix you."
She seemed confused, so he continued, "To find a way to make you human."
"Turn me human? Why?" "Why? Of course you want to be human; anyone would want to be. No, more importantly, who could love a monster?"
"...oh."
John smiled frost-brightly, in a vain attempt to pass some small measure of cheer onto her.
"Caroline, don't you fret about a thing; I'll be here with you to help, every step of the way!"
He thought he heard the faint sound of weeping from her room that night; surely Sam's reaction had come as a great shock and betrayal.
He, despite doing his best to be supportive, was unsure what else to say or do to comfort her.
After all, he had already said everything he could.
Bonus (writing to Meri for some advice later):
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After lunch and checking out the hotel lobby, we went to the Racine Art Museum. The above are some of my favorite pieces that are currently on exhibit.
found bag adorned with found key chains (don't remember the title); Georgina Treviño
Virgen de Guadalupe Medallion (left) and Milagro Heart Tree of Life (right); Lorena Angulo
Rendezvous at Twilight (top) and Field Day (bottom); John Colt
The Egg; George L. McDonald
At the Bar Day-Dreaming of the Past; David F. Driesbach
October Migration; Robert R. Burkert
(October 19, 2023)
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John Nicholson Colt
Cave Dwellers
acrylic paintings (visual works)
1998
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What drew them to each other is that they were both willing to do reprehensible things.
Whether it's to save their own skins, to save their families, to carry out a plan... They're naturally fucked up in the same pragmatic way.
But they can BE their full, "flawed, petty evil creatures" in full light of the other.
///
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DUNDUNDUN SAM WAS JUST WAITING FOR HER TO TURN AWAY WHAT A BASTARD
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She should've gotten to KILL him at least once, I think. Just to further make their bond weirder.
///
"Don't struggle," she says.
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ALSO.
I like to watch the unraveling futility of their ambitions. Rowena, Crowley, and Sam were all united by wanting status and ambition to help them escape "a rigged game."
"And it took everything from me, everyone I love-- my family."
///
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BOOM. There it is.
See, Rowena sees the lengths Sam will go, and she actually RESPECTS it.
Their relationship is built on the comfort of understanding WHY they're willing to gut each other AND each other's loved ones. Strong feelings that they try to dissociate themselves from.
They use their smarts and ruthlessness to protect themselves and their loved ones at all costs.
And they both want to change.
"You were never gonna kill him. There was a time you would've. But not now."
///
There is such an--an OPENNESS about the bad things they've done, and Sam needs that in his life.
///
And in season 15, Rowena knows that Sam wouldn't have been able to kill her at the end there... not unless she guided his hand and helped him.
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“Sam, please come back...” Caroline called, standing and dripping bathwater onto the thick woolen carpet.
Sam was long gone, out the door and headed God-Knows-Where, having forced his way past John without a single word to his brother.
John looked to Caroline to ask her, and saw Why.
Green scales glinted across her damp skin, like leaves in a forest understory. Acusatory emeralds in the dim of the hallway.
They’re fading as the skin dries, The part of John’s mind that was still functioning said. some sort of merfolk? Or perhaps a wyrm?
What kind of monster (he hunted monsters, killed them as he met them, of course he did why wouldn’t he- only good monster was a dead one, he always said) what kind of creature was his brother’s wife?
“John?” asked Caroline, drawing her towel around herself like a shawl.
Her skin, drier now, soft and fleshy, let her pass as human again. “John, are you...did you....did he say anything to you? Is Sam coming back?”
Of course he wasn’t coming back, John thought. Little Sam’s always hated monsters just as much as me, couldn’t even stand to hunt them himself, building his little weapons so he wouldn’t have to sully his own hands-- John remembered what Sam had hinted to him last night, and his face tried to form a wry smile but only made it as far as a wincing grimace.
Oh this is just perfect for Sam’s grand plans, his ambition outstripping his lovely, poor, politically unconnected wife; and now he has the perfect excuse to leave her, won’t have to face the scandal a divorce would cause--
His shoulders shook in silent, tearless sobs. How perfect for him. He even left his beloved wife alone with his murderous, monster-hunting brother, to tidy up the last loose ends.
How simple.
“John?”
John looked at It.
At her.
He tried to take a breath. His chest heaved.
“Caroline.”
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