Clap Your Hands if You Believe: Part Two

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Mr. Brennan decided to go to a bar, so that's where you and Sam went. He's drinking a beer, but you only have water. The atmosphere around the two of you is awkward around because you're not sure what to talk about. Sam without a soul is really starting to get on your damn nerves, so whatever you might say, it's going to be insulting. Sam may be soulless, but he does know when it's awkward. He looks at you and takes a big gulp of his beer before putting it on the table.

"So, have you come up with a name for your baby yet?" he asks.

The question may be innocent, but because it's coming from Sam, you know it's anything but.

"What?" you snap angrily.

"What? I'm just trying to make conversation."

"Well don't. I don't know what you think this is, but it's not friendship. You have gotten on my damn nerves ever since you came back from hell. I tolerated it in the beginning, but your true colors are really starting to show."

"I guess I can say the same for you."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, we did have sex. A lot. You couldn't have Dean so you came to me. I'm not complaining, I mean, it was good sex. But now that Dean is back, you're crawling back to him."

"Like hell I am!" you gasp.

"Really? You're giving me that bullshit? You two obviously had sex, so you're not that over him. I mean, you can do whatever you want. I am the last person to judge you, but you wouldn't be having his kid if you weren't still in love with him."

"Okay, you know what? Don't talk to me about my child. I don't want you to even think about her! Don't pretend like you care about me or her because I know you don't! I am so glad that my child isn't yours because the thought of me having your child makes me want to kill myself. You know, you were my best friend–someone I could turn to for anything. And now... now I don't even recognize who you are."

Tears threaten to spill over your eyes, but you can see it in his–he doesn't care at all. He doesn't care about your pesky emotions, and that riles you up even more. You just roll your eyes and flip him off.

"Fuck you, Sam," you growl.

Instead of drowning in the uncomfortableness and awkwardness, he pulls out his phone and dials Dean so that he has someone else to talk to.

"The only thing this guy is up to is alcoholism," Sam says after a few pauses. "You know, maybe I should go talk to him again. I mean, you're the one who said he's hiding something."

Dean hisses at Sam over the phone so loudly that you can hear what he's saying.

"What? Do you see something? Dean, what's up?"

"Hang on a second. Holy... UFO! UFO!!" Dean screams.

Your whole body freezes, and you bite your thumbnail as you wait for the phone call to end so you can ask Sam what exactly is going on.

"Whoa! Dude, stop yelling. You're breaking up. I didn't catch that last part," Sam winces.

"Close encounter! Close encounter!" Dean yells loudly.

"Close encounter! What kind? First? Second?... The third kind already? You better run, man. I think the fourth kind is a butt thing."

"Empathy, Sam, empathy!" you hiss.

"They still after you?" Sam asks and waits for his response. The waitress walks by, and he motions for another beer. You can't fucking believe him right now. "Dean? Are you there? What happened? Dean?"

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