06: [Video] Long Road Out of Eden
[Dean is staring at the camera, lips pursed, apparently highly amused by something. He's sitting in what appears to be an empty lounge room on the lowest level of the mansion. The Eagles are playing behind him on a (shitty) cassette player. With a little laugh he looks down at his hands in his lap and laces his fingers together, taking a deep
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And we all want to leave. I know that I do. But, if you don't mind my saying so...you seem like you could use a break. Time doesn't pass while we're here, so there's nothing that will be lost, right? You'll go home and when you do, everything will be as you left it. So there's no harm in embracing a little time off, right? You'll collapse from all the stress at this rate, and it certainly won't do your skin any favors.
Who knows? You might even have the opportunity for a short romance before you leave.
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Time off is great and all, but I'd rather go to the Grand Canyon than a haunted house. I get enough of those on the job.
[The man twiddles his thumbs for a second or two, looking down at them briefly before scrutinizing Kurt again.]
Ha. Romance. [He rolls his eyes not-so-subtly, the two syllables tinged with derision. It's a word he hasn't heard since they made him read Romeo and Juliet in twelfth grade.] Right.
[Obviously the subject makes him uncomfortable, so he shifts a little in his chair and frowns at the floor before adding quietly, very grudgingly,]
...what kinda break are you suggesting? I haven't been outta this freakin' building yet.
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The grounds are nice. They only go so far, but there are beautiful gardens, and a beach. There's a forest too, but I've been told it's dangerous, that that's no exactly ideal. ...There's also a hedge maze, and hills with grass that grows in a chessboard pattern, bizarrely enough. And vendors. I'm very familiar with them by now.
[He eyes Dean and gives a playful sigh.] Clearly that's what you need right now. You've been cooped up inside, breathing the same stale air - that would depress anyone.
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He does, however, know Kurt well enough by now to figure out that the teenager wouldn't go for that option. The gardens don't appeal to him...the beach might, if it was hot out.]
Not so much depressing. Frustrating. I feel like I need to stretch every five minutes. [Dean scowls childishly at the armchair he's in. He isn't one for leisurely strolls or casual walks - that's Sammy's thing - but what other choice does he have? It's not like there's a rifle range.]
...yeah, okay. The beach doesn't sound that bad.
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Everyone... has regrets, in their past.
Don't let them control you.
[Professional advice--in his universe, the monsters you really have to worry about are those that have gotten tangled up in human regrets and gone mad from them.]
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...it ain't the regrets. I don't have too many of those, actually.
[Programmed to be some sort of demon-hunting automaton by his father, Dean is the perfect little worker bee...with some severe self-esteem issues.]
S'just...bein' in this place and not being able to leave...that's gettin' to me, man. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that I'm like you - I don't stay in one place for too long. Bein' stuck here? Not leaving? That's what kills me.
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While there is work to do here... there is no reason not to stay.
[He does empathize, insofar as he's capable of normal empathy. It's much more natural, much more right, to be on the move. But he moves around because the job necessitates it; if there's still bad shit that needs addressing here, he's got no problem with being here.]
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Nothing's the same here, though! What you and I fight...they aren't real here. They look real and act real, but it's like...it's like they're projections!
[It's true that Dean tends to go where the work is - that's how he and his brother operate - but when he doesn't have Sam to pick out the jobs, he's a little lost. He just won't admit it.]
...it might...a lot of it has to do with me missing my car- [He stops, screwing up his face when he remembers that this man might not know what a car is.] ...my, uh...means of transportation. It's a part of me, man.
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...yeah, it does. [Finding common ground is always hard when it comes to Dean, and she targeted his favorite thing.]
Black 1967 Chevy Impala. [Dean sucks in a sharp breath, his smile a little loopy, missing his baby already.] And she is damn fine.
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[ She, too, looks just a bit dreamy... though certainly to a lesser degree than the alternate dimension Dean seems to have landed himself in. ]
Mine wasn't as fancy as all that. '86 'Vette Coupe convertible. Red.
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[He unconsciously licks his lower lip, quirking an eyebrow at her.] You look like a red-car kinda girl. Corvette's gotta sweet engine on it. The least they could do was have a frickin' race track here, right?
[Dean chuckles a little, in much better humor than before.]
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