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[iseelucifer.livejournal.com]

I can't seem to focus today.

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[unusinatrum.livejournal.com]

I just need to be sure. I need to see...

[To his credit, Sam was at least trying to be a little bit rational. Follow the pattern of things. Get silver - check for a shifter reaction - that was step one, right? That was what he was supposed to to. That's what Dean would do, he pointedly didn't think. Dean wouldn't have taken his eyes off the double, though, either. Hand closing around the knife, Sam pulled it out, flipping it open and showing the double the blade.]

Look - it's just, it's silver. I need to- if you're a shifter, I have to know, okay? There shouldn't be two of me. [Shouldn't be one he bit back, digging the silver point into his arm just deep enough to draw blood. He didn't even bother to wince - he'd carved his arms up plenty of times; sometimes rituals needed blood, or pain, and he'd tried all the rituals he could get his hands on. He was used to a little pain, by now. Wiping the drops of red off on his sleeve, he flipped the knife, eyeing his other self thoughtfully before offering it, handle-first. Maybe not a wise move, but he had other knives. A gun. If something went wrong he could defend himself... if he felt like bothering.]

[iseelucifer.livejournal.com]

Fair enough. [He was going for silver. Testing. Fair enough. Since he was him, it was what he would do. While Sam wasn't too fond of the idea of cutting himself up for a friggin' hallucination, he knew that he needed to make peace with himself, somehow, to work this out. So, with a nod, he took the knife from his duplicate, rolled up his sleeve, and pressed the blade against his forearm. The knife cut quick and clean, leaving behind normal traces of blood, but no indication that he was, as suspected, a shifter.] See? I'm clean.

[Sam flipped the knife back over, offering it to the other Sam as a sort of peaceful gesture.] Think you can handle talking to me now?

[unusinatrum.livejournal.com]

[Sam was glad Sam was a reasonable person, not fighting him on the silver thing. He wasn't sure if he was glad that there was no smoking, freaking out - signs that the person standing in front of him was something other than human. He took the knife back with a small frown, looked at it absently - making sure it really was the silver one.]

Maybe. [Sam closed the blade, pushing it back in his pocket and shrugged slightly.] I mean, you're me, we're. Us? What is there to even talk about?