On Shadow.

[realmrsreynolds]

Sallie's accustomed by this point in her career in Milliways with bringing people through to her house.

Sometimes however, she does forget to mention that her door leads to the back end of her walk-in pantry.

"Mind the rice bags, please," Sallie throws out behind her. "I haven't had a chance to put them away yet."

'Them', here, meaning 'a stack of burlap bags waist high that restricts the narrow walkway of actual living space to about half of its original width'.

Sallie's concise like that; even she has issues navigating it all.

Comments

[realmrsreynolds]

Sallie remembers everything, actually.

Her fear dies down to a wordless confusion as her mind calms -- her table, the shattered dishes, Sam's shirt covered in pie filling --

The overall effort leaves Sallie focused on anything except the two boys in her kitchen trying to help her.

[hopeitsworthit]

"Hey. Sallie."

Dean's voice is a little sharp, and he snaps his fingers in front of her face.

"Let's get you set up in your living room, or whatever. Let Sammy clean up in here."

Little brother's duty. The big brother handbook says so.

[realmrsreynolds]

Sallie manages to stand, this time.

(She'll go to the infirmary tomorrow, quietly; she can't work with her hip hurting that bad.)

With Dean's assistance, she heads toward the small spare bedroom just off of the living room, still silent.

[gavemea_45]

There's a broom and dustpan in the pantry, and Sam uses that.

He can't do anything to fix the table, but he finds something that looks like a tablecloth, and uses that to cover it up.

It doesn't take too long; the kitchen's not that big.

[hopeitsworthit]

Meanwhile, in the small bedroom, Dean has subsided into awkward semi-punctuated silence.

He looks up at Sam when he hears him moving around, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head.

Then he looks at Sallie.

"So. Uh. Since everything here's taken care of now. Uh. We can head on out. Send one of your hands to look in on you."

Or something.

God, this is really friggin' awkward.

[gavemea_45]

"Dean--"

Sam's hovering at the door of the bedroom with equal parts uncertainty and stubbornness clearly apparent.

[hopeitsworthit]

"Sam. Just--"

He looks a little constipated.

This, this right here, is not gonna be a thing they talk about.

Is it?

"Leave her be, okay? She's got people here that'll take care of her. We--"

He's already shoving past Sam and out the door.

"We've got other shit to do. Come on."

There's other stuff Dean could say, but that's a set of doors he ain't ever gonna open.

Not if he can help it.