A Close Relationship with Carpet Fibres
Summary: Sam wakes up on the floor. Epilepsy 'verse.
Sam wakes up on the floor.
It takes a while to figure out where he is – it's not a floor, it's sand, soft and warm from the last rays of the sun – and even longer to figure out who the pretty blonde girl sitting on the beach beside him is. Then he feels bad for forgetting Jess, even though he knows that that's ridiculous – it's not his fault and it was only for a moment – and after that everything comes flooding back until he's aware enough to realise how embarrassing this is. He concentrates for a moment and is relieved to figure out that he hasn't pissed himself, at least. Still, as second dates go, he bets Jess has had better.
“Hi?” she says, a small anxious smile on her face as she looks down at him. She's scared, Sam can tell, but she's trying to pretend she's not. He did warn her that this would happen sooner or later, after she asked about the medical bracelet forever chained around his wrist, but he was hoping it would be later. She probably was, too. She's probably going to freak now that she's seen how bad it can be and find an excuse to cancel the third date Sam's pretty sure he remembers them talking about, just like that other girl did after he had a string of complex partials during their coffee date.
“Hi,” Sam replies, when he's fairly sure that he can do it without slurring. “Are you okay?”
Jess is close enough that Sam can smell her perfume with his awakening senses and her blonde hair tumbles over her shoulder in waves. She's so pretty. And smart and funny. Everything was going so well. “I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to ask you that,” she says.
Sam manages to quirk a smile. He hopes it's reassuring. “Nah, I've done this hundreds of times. I'm a pro at seizures. You're the amateur here.”
The joke seems to drain some of the tension from Jess's shoulders and Sam decides that this would be a good time to sit up if he doesn't want her getting more worried. It's not easy but he manages to push himself upright. He's pleasantly surprised when Jess's gently hands reach out to help. Her fingers graze the side of his face as she brushes sand from his hair and he feels a rush of light-headedness that has nothing to do with the seizure and everything to do with how beautiful she is.
“It was pretty scary,” Jess admits. “I've never seen someone have a seizure before. It was... more sudden that I was expecting.”
“They're not all like that. Sometimes I can tell when one's about it hit. Just... not always.” He wants her to know that it's not always like this, that being with him isn't all tonic-clonic seizures all the time, but 'sometimes' doesn't sound so impressive right now and his head is still too jumbled to explain properly. He ducks behind his hair and tries to figure out something, anything to say that will stop this girl from disappearing, wishing Dean was here to take over for him while he gets his head on straight.
“It's okay, Sam,” Jess says, like she can read his mind. “I knew this was part of the deal. So what do we need to do now?”
Her hand is warm on his denim-clad knee “Um... sleep,” Sam admits. “Sorry, I just...”
“It's fine.” Jess brushes aside his apology. She smiles at him a little slyly and says, “You know, I don't usually take guys home on the second date but my place is closer than yours. Come to mine?”
Sam thinks he might be falling in love.