The Journal of Sam Winchester

(not Sammy)

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Sam Winchester psychic_wonder
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Office Hours [Thursday, July 25]
Sam wasn't really expecting any students to come by his office today, but he'd needed a nice flat space to crack open his laptop and upgrade some of the memory without worrying that Grace would get her hands into things, so here he was. It was nice to have a quiet, peaceful place to go sometimes.


"Oh my gosh," said Astrid, peering into Sam's office doorway and looking incredibly impressed. "I read a fic of you in your office. It was just like this."

She tapped her chin, and giggled. "Actually Dean was under your desk."


Apparently, Derek had started a good thing.

"Are you a Carver Edlund fan?"

"Wh-- oh, you mean Chuck!" Astrid beamed. "Nah, Chuck's not my favorite. I love how meta that was, b-t-dub. But I didn't like all the slashbaiting when you guys made fun of Wincest, you know? Uncool."

Sam tilted his head, watching her. It was like she was speaking English, only not. "Um, I'm sorry?" he said uncertainly. It seemed like the right response, anyway. "Are you new here?"

"Just visiting!" Astrid said brightly. "But we just got here a few hours ago. I met Emma and then I had to come meet you, since you're one half of one of my top-two OTPs and all."

She whipped out a silver sharpie. "Will you sign something for me?"

"Uh, sure, I guess?" Sam's head was going to hurt by the end of this, wasn't it? "What do you want me to sign? And uh, what OTP?"

"Wincest, duh!" As for what to sign, in a flash, she whipped her Moleskine notebook out of her bag and held it out to him. "I mean, no offense to Peter, but it basically has to be Dean because anyone else could get seriously injured by way of your murder peen, you know? Dean's, like, resilient, though. And this version's not your brother, so booyah!"

Sam screwed up his face a little. "Uh, okay, first of all I don't have a murder peen, assuming you're talking about what I think you're talking about. Secondly, Peter's amazing and has put up with a ton of my crap. Thirdly, all Deans are still my brother no matter where they came from. And fourthly, how do you know this stuff about me?"

"You totally have a murder peen," Astrid said, then paused. "Wait. I mean, your character does." Was that what was going on here? He was just being a stickler for being different from Sam? "It's not a bad thing. It just means you and not-your-brother Dean have an especially profound bond that no other girls can come between."

She tittered a little. Just take it as written that you weren't going to get that reference, Sam.

"And I know stuff 'cause I'm, like, the biggest fan ever of F.H., duh!"

"You're a fan of... what?" Sam asked. "I'm--I'm not a character. I'm me."

Astrid rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know, you're really method," she sighed. "That doesn't make Fandom High not a TV show."

"It's--what?" Sam asked, eyes wide. "You guys have been watching us?"

"Well, yeah," she said. "Your ratings aren't great, but I've never missed an episode."

"I thought the radio was bad enough," Sam muttered. "How much do you guys, you know, see?" Not that he'd done anything improper in a while, of course.

"I don't know, whatever makes it to the final take, I guess," Astrid said. That was wrong. "Do you guys film a lot?"

"Uh, I guess we 'film' a lot?" Sam said. "But it's not, you know, like a real TV show."


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