As much as Sam wanted to retreat, hide, lick his wounds, there was no Rebekah to call to comfort him this time. No Henry to remind him that things often turned out different than they seemed or distract him with magic. And River would doubtless have some perfectly logical or logical-to-River reason she shouldn't leave him alone, anyway.

He caught Caroline drinking deep from a bottle of whiskey and envied her that choice. Maybe he should take a bottle and hide out in Rebekah's room. Rebekah's old room. He sighed and half-muttered, "I should know better by now," to himself.

Meeting himself halfway on the desire, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey for himself and sat near Caroline. "She never told me how you knew each other," he said, with two intentions. One, hopefully to learn more about Rebekah, another piece of her to keep close to him. Two, to see if he could satisfy his own suspicions about how they knew each other. The Inn didn't seem to do casual acquaintances.