'That would be a yes, then.' Sam hooks his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and offers a crooked little smile. Her obvious embarrassment is weirdly kind of reassuring; she might think he's crazy, but at least she has the decency to want to keep that to herself. Possibly Sam should be offended that that's the impression he's left to begin with, but, 'It's not the first time. People-- most people-- don't believe in the supernatural, in my world. Coming off like a head case is kind of a hazard of the job.'
He's half afraid that, under the compulsion of the truth spell, he might come out with something about that time he hallucinated Lucifer for months, or the fact that his upbringing's screwed him up so bad probably any psychiatrist would have a field day with him, but blessedly, nothing does.
no subject
He's half afraid that, under the compulsion of the truth spell, he might come out with something about that time he hallucinated Lucifer for months, or the fact that his upbringing's screwed him up so bad probably any psychiatrist would have a field day with him, but blessedly, nothing does.