[QT] 02.08 - Time.
Feb. 10th, 2008 03:24 am"Shit."
It's a common phrase, usually paired up with the name of his brother rolling off the tip of his tongue quick after it. Catching up to the insult he's let build up for the past twelve minutes tops. This time though there is no Sammy. No name to slip from his lips except his own, and that's from his own stupidity this time. Shaking his hand the drops of coffee are flicked free from his skin. The not so careful walk to the Impala catching him off guard and the coffee is slowly seeping it's way up his sleeve starting with a soaked cuff. It's the last thing he needs right now.
The last God Damned thing he needs, and yet it's the icing on the fucking cake. His finger pushes up to his lips drawing the bitter off his skin, trying to remember that it's just after three and if he's going to drive all the way through to Kentucky he needs the coffee. He doesn't need it on his shirt, but that's a bit too late for argument now. Setting the cup on the hood of the Impala he unlocks the door and hears that familiar creak of parts that know him well enough to creak the same way each time.
The coffee shifts from roof to dash in a fluid moment as he settles into the drivers seat. Shrugging his jacket off he contemplates changing his shirt while he's stopped, but figures there will be time for a change of clothes and a shower later. A little lie down on a bed that isn't the reclined seat of the car and he'd be right as rain. Not that it really mattered how right he was these days. These days were all counting down to the big decline. The reason there was no Sammy at his side. The reason he was following the blonde across four states to try and figure out whatever the hell she was trying to explain to him this time. Not like it mattered. Not like any of it fucking mattered anymore, but what else was he going to do with his time left on the planet? Sit on his ass and enjoy the comforts of the local motel Magic Fingers Bed? Well... he could, but instead he was driving across four states with an empty stomach that probably thought it was too early for coffee... or too late to be driving at all. It didn't matter though because half the coffee was on his sleeve, and he wasn't going to even drink the rest of it as he dropped it into the trash on the way out of the parking lot.
He'd eat later, because later was always further down the road than where he was right now.
