deercountry | And though scary is exciting...

Who: Ariadne, Castiel, and Evelyn
What: Tea and conspiracy theories
When: Backdated slightly to mid-September, following Sam Winchester's visit to the orchard
Where: Ariadne's home, in the Willful Machine

Content Warnings: Discussion of sex.

The second floor of Ariadne's home was exactly as it had been in Deerington. Complete with a kitchen she'd never used. Even the dust on the cooking surfaces seemed the same. Which was a good thing. Ariadne was a menace in the kitchen and had been rightly banned from the kitchens back at North Castle.

In her defense, it had only been a small fire.

Fortunately, there was one singular ability that Ariadne did possess when it came to the culinary arts and that was the ability to boil water. Even, so she watched the teapot like a hawk, prepared at any second to douse unexpected flames. There were none. But Ariadne credited that mostly to her vigilance. Soon enough she had a boiling pot and filled it with herbs, preparing tea the way she'd learned back in Valeria, when tea suddenly and unexpectedly entered her life. Once she put out the flames on the stove, she assembled three mismatched cups and set them out on her little table, along with a bowl of fresh fruit from her orchard and some cinnamon bark.

It occurred to her that she'd never really had guests before. Oh, she'd had Orpheus over on occasion. Or Dean once or twice when she was picking up supplies. But this was different somehow. She had invited people over, offered hospitality. And she realized that she didn't entirely know how to do that, especially not for earthlings.

Well, she could only hope they'd be forgiving. And much more focused on the problem at hand. The problem being that something was strangely amiss with Sam Winchester.

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"He did mention he'd been in Hell," Evelyn admits, gripping the cup in her hands a little tighter than necessary, leaning forward to put it down before she breaks it or drops it.

"Truthfully, he seemed fairly blasé about it. One would think an experience like that would be more...traumatic." She doesn't know anything about not being 'whole', or what that may implicate.

"In...ancient Egyptian culture," she says, picking that topic, because she knows it, it's familiar, "death was a temporary sort of inconvenience, I suppose you could say. When a person died, they were mummified so the soul could eventually return to the body. That's why the organs and such were preserved, as well. They believed Anubis would weigh the person's heart against the feather of Maat, and, if lighter than the feather, the soul would go with Osiris, to be reborn."

She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, frowning a little.

"Of course, if it was heavier, the goddess Ammit would eat it and destroy it." Get to the point, Evelyn.

"Anyway. My point is, if he died, if his soul was really in Hell...is it possible it was...guided or put somewhere else? Somewhere less than, er. Desirable?"

A 'more traumatic' stay in Hell is an understatement, if Cas understands Sam's situation correctly. He didn't just go to Hell: he looked himself in a cage with The Devil. It's no wonder that he's changed. Even a minute spent there would have felt like days of torture. It's a wonder he's functional at all.

But, there's no point in further worrying his friends without more i formation of what's really going on. Cas chews thoughtfully on the last bite of nectarine while Evelyne pontificates on gods. As to where Sam's soul might've been put... Cas speaks up automatically. "It may still be in Hell."

Which isn't a pleasant thought, and what could any of them possibly do about it, if that's the case? Try to send Sam home to his soul? To Hell? Beg a god for help? We all know how that goes.

Cas reaches for his mug of tea, drops the pit into it, and asks Ariande with the cup already on the way to his lips, "What kind of tea is this? Is there wormwood in it?" Please, please tell him it's laced with something.

She blinked in surprise at Cas’s question. “Uh. No. No wormwood.” Why would he imagine that she would do that to them? They were her guests. “Just a native black tea. If it’s not sweet enough, I might have some chocolate…”

She didn’t have sugar. How could she? She didn’t know how to bake.

A little line of worry formed between her eyes. Was she the worst host ever? She was certainly screwing up something awful.

Of course, there were more important things to worry about. Like Sam’s soul, or so it seemed. “Forgive me for asking, but could you two perhaps explain exactly what or where Hell is? I’m not sure I understand what we’re even guessing at.”

Castiel is also getting a strange look at the question, but her attention goes back to Ariadne pretty quickly.

"It's...the Underworld, essentially. Most mythological systems have some version of it, including Egyptian, Greek, ah-- Chinese, Christian."

"Essentially, it's the place bad people go when they die. Evil people."

That was a rude question, admittedly. Of course there was nothing good in it. So Cas is quick to dismiss, "No, this is fine," and sip his black tea while Evelyn explains, ah yes, Hell.

Christ.

Evil people, she says, and that's certainly how the mythology goes, though it's not all black and white as that in his world. Obviously Ariadne is from some other universe, and he assumes Evelyn must be as well. It'd be an awfully big coincidence if theirs were the same. But then, he and Dean, and even Sam are all here, miraculously...

Anyway, speak of the Devil, Cas feels compelled to clarify, in defense of the younger Winchester, "Evil people and lost souls. And anyone with a soul who was damned to perdition despite their good intentions. Like Sam."

Her eyes flitted to Cas, grateful for the clarification. After all, she knw that Sam wasn't an evil person. Still, there was the other half of the explanation to work out. "So Sam died?"

Which was upsetting, but within the scope of reality, she supposed.

Good people--and good fighters--died. Unfortunate. But also very true.

She continued to work it out in her head, setting down her tea so she could make a few vague gestures with her fingers, connecting the pieces as best possible. "He died and came back...broken. Missing a soul." She looked between the two of them. "I'm not terribly familiar with resurrections," she admitted. "But is that how it always happens? That when someone comes back, they come back wrong?"

A pause.

"Because I don't think that's how it worked in Deerington." When someone died, they came back. Whole. Intact.

...which had a horrifying implication for one way to fix Sam. Not that she would ever say that out loud.

Well, you know. 'Evil' is subjective really, depending on who you ask. She's spitting biblical rhetoric, not always to be taken literally.

"I've only seen someone come back twice - though he, ah, had to sort of...suck the life force out of humans to become whole again. I don't think that's what is happening with Sam, though, and I don't think it's something he plans on doing."

Hopefully. That would be dreadful to deal with again.

Oh, that's nice. Steal someone else's soul, essentially. Maybe it would work. Cas has no idea, and even less idea what Sam would or wouldn't do if he really is sans one soul. He cups both hands around his mug and sips his tea before answering, "Well, if we find any empty shells of what used to be people, and Sam returns to how he was before, then we'll know why."

What else can they do? There are rituals Cas remembers, vaguely, because he isn't wasted enough to forget them, but considering where they are, and where Sam's soul may be... Would it even work, pulling it through another dimension? And what has Sam done, really, except loosen up a bit? He didn't push Ariadne or Evelyn into anything they didn't want, seems like, and he passed back instead of hogging the joint Cas shared with him, so... Cas's eyebrows lift and he shrugs. "I don't think it'll come to that. He's still Sam."

And surely Sam, smart boy that he is, has made no bad decisions in his life, ever.

Perhaps he still was Sam, perhaps he wasn't. It as hard to tell. But Ariadne wasn't the sort of person who was comfortable sitting back to see what happened. Especially if someone could get hurt because of it.

Her concerns etched themselves out on her face.

For once, she didn't bother to obfuscate.

"Wouldn't Sam want his soul back?" she asked softly. Ariadne was sure she would, if there was a piece of her missing.

Then again, she was missing part of herself, really. And the scars on her back ached at the thought of it.

And though scary is exciting...

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cw: casual drug references, as ev!cas does

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sorry for the delay y'all

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