007 | accidental text | video

[likemichael]

[Dean instinctively started a message to Sam after waking up to find him not home. The text was simple, yet personal, but as soon as he intended to send it, he discovered Sam's name missing from the contact list. It was obvious enough, then, that Sam was gone. Despite that fact, Dean instantly ran from the house, ignoring anyone who was home, to

Comments

[softenedbyme]

Text

[She won't ask about November 2nd, or expect a response, but she has to do something.]

I'm sorry. ...If you need anything, I can help.

[likemichael]

I'm fine. Thanks. There's nothing I need.

[softenedbyme]

...Okay. I'll talk to you later, Dean.

[likemichael]

Yeah. Sorry. Talk to you later.

[malfunctionbot]

[Dean may say 'don't call' but it sure does seem like he could use a friendly shoulder to lean on at the moment. And Rabbit's own may be a bit crooked and off-center, but his structure sure is stable enough to support a pal if he wants the offer.

There isn't too much to say. Rabbit has been missing his own brothers like crazy since his arrival, but it still isn't the same thing.]

Heya, b-buddy. I know it ain't easy an' there's not too much a r-r-robut like me can do t' help, but lemme know if ya want any company.

[likemichael]

[Dean gives him a faint nod, and still won't really look at the screen, but he manages a quick quirk of the corner of his mouth in response.]

Thanks, Rabbit. Probably not gonna be good company today, but thanks.

[malfunctionbot]

Nuthin' t' thank me for. Just checkin' in with my human co-co-co-counterpart.

[likemichael]

Yeah. [Dean can half smile at that, but nods once more.] Take care of yourself, man. I'll call tomorrow. I'll probably be better for hangin' out with.

[unbreakablelion]

[ voice ]

[ Ouch. Guess it's true what they say about this place throwing people back home as easily as it drags them here. And Gene gets it, he does. He had a brother once. And he had people he loved like family and he lost them all, so he gets it. ]

You look like a bloke who needs a pint or six.

[likemichael]

Not sure it's a good idea, me leaving the house again. If you're still in for drinkin', you can find the junk yard and bring it to my car.

[unbreakablelion]

What's the plan? Drink until you black out? [ He's done that a lot himself these past few months, so he is totally not judging.]

[likemichael]

That, or until my liver finally quits. Whichever comes first.

[daddysknife]

Action because I fucking can

[Jo recognizes one of those piles of debris in the background even before the horn sounds to confirm that he is outside, and she can put the pieces together about November 2nd without much work.

Sam going home...She wasn't jealous, not really. It was going to tear Dean apart, she definitely knew that. It obviously already was.

She worked up the fortitude to get off the couch and head for the liquor cabinet to grab another bottle of whiskey for him, and then to the fridge for something for him to eat. He probably wouldn't eat. She wasn't going to have it be because there wasn't anything out there for him.

And so she left the house with her phone in her pocket and her father's knife at her side (just in case) and opened the car door before Dean could lock it and keep her out.]

Here.

[She wriggles around to get his phone out of her way before handing over the cold pizza and settling the second bottle of whiskey between them.]

[likemichael]

[Dean can see her coming, and damn it all, he wants to tell her to go back inside and rest, because she could pop those stitches open, but he can't bring himself to give a crap about anyone today. He wants to just forget he exists for the rest of November 2nd.

It makes him sick to his stomach that they took Sam today, of all days, and he watches from the corner of his eye as she gets in. He takes the pizza, his other hand still gripping the steering wheel, and soon enough he leaves the slice on the dashboard as he reaches for his open bottle of whiskey.

He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't want to say anything, so he just drinks.]

[daddysknife]

[She would tell him to shut up if he tried it. She got out here, she needs a break before she heads back in either way. If she is clenching her hands to get over the bit of pain, she fully expects him not to comment on it.]

...'M sorry.

[That's all she's going to say, unless Dean starts a conversation, which she does not expect. And that's fine. She knows it has to be.]

[likemichael]

[Dean nods a bit to her, crossing his arms on the steering wheel, the bottle hanging from his fingertips as he leans his head on his arms. He doesn't know whether to speak or to just stay quiet, and he sighs heavily after the silence becomes too much.]

It just had to be today, didn't it? Could've sent him home any day, but it had to be today. [He leans back after a few more moments, takes a drink from the bottle, then hands it over to her.]

Sorry. I guess I should be glad he's at home. S'not like he's dead.

[dowhatimust]

Action

[Dean isn't the only one who goes looking for Sam - because Castiel isn't going to leave the other Winchester brother behind again. Still, wandering the streets for hours resulted in nothing, and no more than now does Castiel feel the weariness of being mortal ... and that faint taste of bitterness for being completely helpless. He walked through the gates of Singer's Salvage yard, just as Dean hit the horn in frustration. The angel jerked with surprise, then with understanding.]

[He walked over to the Impala, opened the driver's side door, saw where the phone was and prudently pushed it to the side as he sat down. He also made sure to move the whiskey bottles aside, before he looked at Dean solemnly.] I am sorry, Dean.

[likemichael]

[Dean clenches his fingers around the steering wheel, actually flinching as the door opens and Castiel sits down, as if the angel had just popped in instead, and he looks over at the words, jaw stiffening. He wants to shout at him, because Castiel is the only one who would get why he's shouting, but Dean can't bring himself to do it.

Instead he swallows the lump in his throat and nods a bit, looking out the windscreen.] Yeah. Me too. [He lowers his hands from the wheel, dragging his hand over his face, digging the heel of his palm against his eye, and slumping a bit.] You went looking too?

[dowhatimust]

[Castiel turns his gaze away, because it ... hurt him to see Dean in such obvious pain. He merely folds his hands over his knees, squeezing them in turn. He drops his head a little, feeling the sharp sting of failure again.] I did. I found ... no sign of him.

[He let out a quiet noise.] I know today is hard for you. I thought ... since Sam could not be here, that I would be.

[likemichael]

Yeah, this is all that was around. [He plucks at the shirt he's got on.] He tossed it in the back, yesterday, bitching at me about the heat being up too high, 'cause I wouldn't turn it down. [He purses his lips, realising he's talking as if Sam is dead.

But when Castiel says that, something inside Dean crumbles, and he can feel the tears pricking his eyes. They're not out of the woods, they haven't sorted everything between them, but Castiel just smashed down one of the walls Dean had up against him.] ...Thanks, Cas.

[He sighs shakily, and then finally looks up at the angel.] You think The Powers That Be just waited for today to send him home, or is it just another string of that bad luck that seems to screw us all over again and again?