accidental video --> audio | post-event

[likemichael]

[The feed flickers on and Dean curses under his breath when it does. Before he can shut it off, the clear image of the left side of his face is seen, his freckled skin splattered with blood, his pupil in his eye blown wide, and behind him is the shape of the back of a large wooden framework, where someone's arm can clearly be seen poking out from

Comments

[unbreakablelion]

[ video ]

[ Look at this disapproving face, Dean. ] Look what the cat dragged in...

[likemichael]

[When Dean responds, he's wiped off most of the blood and he's taking a walk of shame back home. Worst hangover ever.]

Yeah... uh. [How does he even apologise for his crap.] Hey, Gene.

[unbreakablelion]

[ Yep... He has some serious explaining to do. ]

Done being a prat?

[likemichael]

If I can figure out what last week was even about, maybe.

[daddysknife]

Video

[Hell's a pretty good way to explain it, actually.]

...You back?

[likemichael]

...Guess I am, yeah.

[He looks her over for a second.] You too? No smiting headed my way?

[daddysknife]

Next time I see ya I'm gonna hit you, but that's it. Back to human.

[She feels lonely.]

[likemichael]

Yeah... I'd hit me too. [He clenches his jaw and shrugs.]

Sorry about all that... crap.

[risegloriana]

[She's cold, seemingly unaffected. She's back to her prideful self.]

Winchester. [... but more than that, she's removed. There's no teasing, no lightness.] I am glad you are yourself again.

[likemichael]

Elizabeth. [It sounds resigned, and he's surprised she even bothered to speak to him.]

I'm... not sure what to say. I'm sorry, if it helps.

[risegloriana]

Don't. Please, just don't bother with that. It neither changes anything, or fixes what happened.

[there's a weary sigh, she feels so damnably old. She's too stressed, so horribly stressed, but she's mastered keeping it even.] I would have you speak with me, when it is convenient for you.

[likemichael]

[Dean doesn't respond to that. He's damn sure the word "sorry" doesn't get said enough, but he supposes his life is not the same as her life.]

Give me a couple hours? I need to check on Sam. As soon as I'm done, I'll come by, okay?

[malfunctionbot]

[There. That sure sounded a lot like the old Dean. Though that doesn't mean there isn't a slight hesitation in Rabbit's tone when he finally speaks up to answer the call.] Are y-y-y-y-ya hurt, Dean?

[likemichael]

Nah... I'm alright. [He goes quiet for a minute.] Everything okay with you?

[malfunctionbot]

Ya had a lil', uh-[delicately as possible] somethin' on yer face. M-might wanna clean that up.

Ehhhhh, been better. B-b-but I guess ya can relate t' that, huh?

[likemichael]

Yeah, I've got most of it off now. Thanks, Rabbit.

Mm, it wasn't the best week of my life, that's for sure. [Wasn't his worst, either, but that doesn't need saying.]

[likely_evil]

[audio]

I'm in my room.

[more like he's hiding in the closet of his room]

[likemichael]

I'll be there in ten.

[It's more like fifteen minutes, but eventually Dean is there, not even knocking the door. When he doesn't see Sam right away, he hesitates for only a second before pulling open the closet door. Frowning a bit, Dean crouches down, getting into the closet with Sam, even if it's cramped, sitting across from him and leaving the door open.]

You wanna tell me what we're doing in the closet? Because this is a whole metaphor waiting to happen.

[likely_evil]

Hiding.

[the door open, Lucifer is still sitting on the bed, amused. "Come on, Sammy. It was so much fun. Don't you miss that power?" he taunted, bouncing on the bed like a hyper child. "Come on, Sammy, come here."]

Close the door.

[likemichael]

Well, I got that part.

[Dean looks out to see what's so bad out there, can't see it, and promptly closes the door, squinting a bit in the dark until he can see Sam a little. Fumbling around, he rests his hand on Sam's knee, giving a squeeze.]

We... kinda had a rough week, huh? This is about that, right? It wasn't us, Sammy. You're not... the Boy King, and I'm not a demon.