Philip LaFresque and Jack Daniel's depressing day in the kitchen [29/??? artefacts collected]
[ And then this happened and Philip was back in his body. Just like that. Just... like that.
Not that the time off was a breeze, oh no. The things he said to some people, the things Clarence did, but... there are the things he didn't do. The things he could've done so easily and yet--
And yet Philip is back in his body and nobody is hurt. Nobody ( Read more... )
Not that the time off was a breeze, oh no. The things he said to some people, the things Clarence did, but... there are the things he didn't do. The things he could've done so easily and yet--
And yet Philip is back in his body and nobody is hurt. Nobody ( Read more... )
And knowing that Philip feels worse makes Dean wish he wasn't so goddamn helpless.
But he calls back. It's what friends do.]
...hey, uh. Phil? You there?
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But Philip has another question, and Dean can already feel it in his gut that it isn't a good one. Swallowing, stomach twisting into uncomfortable knots, he nods to show that he's still paying attention.]
...yeah?
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During the event, what-- [ He swallows. ] What happened to Dan?
[ ...Nope, not familiar with those, apparently. ]
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Comte Athos believes that the cat will likely end up at market tomorrow, on-sale under the guise of pig meat.
Dean Winchester thinks the cat was flayed alive and had the flesh boiled from its bones by a witch before being used in some hexing ritual.
He is therefore not particularly encouraged by Philip's halting query, and stops shifting nervously in an effort to remain perfectly still as soon as Philip's words sink in.
What happened to Dan?
An innocent enough question, but it's one that he's terrified to answer. His friends. He went after his friends, and his friends' friends. With Philip it was different. It was Clarence, it wasn't him. But this was Dean. And who knows? Maybe all the event did was amplify pre-existing psychotic tendencies. Maybe it just showed him what he's capable of, and what he can become ( ... )
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"I'll bet Dean knows as well! Ask him! Ask him what he did to me!" ]
...How?
[ What he doesn't know is why he can't stop himself from asking, why it should even matter.
But everything Philip has seen and heard in Daniel's room boils down to an endless stream of questions, questions he can't forget, images that won't leave his mind.
So maybe, just maybe he has to start somewhere. Anywhere. Somewhere which just... unfortunately happens to be here. ]
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Dean stares at Philip incredulously. The last time he went on a bloodthirsty rampage under Clarence's control, Dean left well enough alone. He didn't ask questions, he didn't pry. He knew that Daniel had been killed, that Philip's body had done it, and that was that. You don't just ask a man for the gory details after he's taken somebody's life.
Not even if killing is how he makes a living.
Not to mention the fact that Dean is still disgustingly uncomfortable talking about the way he tortured Dan - the way he played a game of cat-and-mouse, stringing him along, making him think he had a fighting chance until it was time for a fiery finish.
Maintaining his expression of shock, Dean shakes his head again. Why? Why make him relive that? What's the point? What's done is done.]
...No. Why...Why d'you wanna know?
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For all Daniel knows they never met after the event. And for the moment that is exactly what Philip will keep pretending to him, to others and probably to himself, whenever he finds the energy.
...There is one thing he does know, because it takes one to know one, because he wouldn't have reacted any differently (though perhaps worse, which begs the question how conscious an effort he's making to ignore that little fact for the sake of his answers). ]
...That bad, huh?
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[He can barely choke the word out. At least Philip isn't pressing further, because Dean was about to pull out the Look me in the eye and tell me you don't have a damn good reason for asking.
The worst part, remembering now, was the look on Daniel's face when he saw the furnace. Like he'd seen it before, and not in a kind light. Shocked recognition, and then the panic set in like watching a bee sting a horse and seeing the animal go absolutely buck-wild.
Daniel has quite a bit of past to account for.]
...he needs friends that don't kill him.
[Understatement of the century.]
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[ Oh, how badly Philip wants to press further. He can convince himself that it's necessary despite the cost, but there is no justification he could provide to Dean, no part of his encounter with Daniel he could give away.
All of that is stacked against Dean's strained voice and the memories of Philip's very own kill. So let it go. And he will, right after voicing the only useful thought that came of this: ]
...If you really didn't blame me for what Clarence did to him- to you, then you can't blame yourself for this either.
[ This has been nagging on him all this time. Voicing it now he finally realises why.
For Philip there is no blaming one without the other. For Philip Dean's guilt means he lied, means everything Dean said to comfort him was completely meaningless. ]
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[Dean rubs his hand over his face for the umpteenth time. It's hard to say out loud why he's so bothered. In his own head, it's playing on a loop, skipping like a scratched vinyl.
He's scared because he doesn't know how much was him, and how much was the event. He liked it. He enjoyed sprinting after people, the thrill of the chase - the hunt. Not caring who was who had been easy. They were just things.
When he woke up the first morning of the event, Dean didn't feel any different from the usual. Coffee, eggs, a regular day. It wasn't an out-of-body experience. It wasn't watching someone else wrest control from him, pretend to be him.
But he can't say that to Philip. Dean has to be the rock, the positive encouragement, the one with the experience.]
I finally just know how you felt. And it...it sucks, man.
[...maybe he ought to stop trying to be the rock.
Dean has hurt plenty of people, but never people he knew. Not really. His whole damn life he's been okay with killing, because he's good ( ... )
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[ Most of the time the line is clear. His mind is soundly suffering from the wrongs his body commits under Clarence's rule.
But there was an exception, an event he was very eager to put behind him, and not just for the eye it cost him.
The man who hid away in that bookstore, the man who only took up human decency as a disguise, the one who betrayed Dean and would have killed him to maintain his cover... that wasn't Clarence.
It wasn't both of them either, no, that one was entirely on Philip with the virus so much as wondering how the hell he woke up one eye short until he sat down for a nice cup of coffee and a look through the event's memories.
It terrified Philip more than he could possibly say. Because he didn't understand how it was possible. Because he tried to rationalise it and came up blank. Because once he shot down all the good theories he finally came up with a solution. And then he could tell exactly what was him and what wasn't.
And he really didn't like the answer. ]
I know,
[ Philip repeats, ( ... )
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He also remembers something much more recent. Researching Hell, looking up the stories, the old stories, because fiction just wasn't cutting it.
Hell brings out the worst in man.
Dean remembers that in particular.]
I'm just-
[Tired.]
...I'm just sorry I didn't get it before, Phil. I'm sorry I scared the shit outta you, I'm sorry I hurt those kids. I'm sorry for a whole lot, and I know 'sorry' ain't gonna cut it. Not by a long shot. But I gotta start somewhere.
[Somewhere just happens to be forgiving himself first. It's hard. Probably one of the hardest things he's ever done, actually, especially since he still worries that it was him, that it wasn't just ( ... )
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Then I'm starting to think we might really need him around.
[ Oh god. What now? What else? The longer they talk about this the more Philip feels like he needs a shower to wash off this topic of conversation. ]
...I remember what it was like and- and 'it wasn't your fault' didn't exactly cut it for me either, but--
[ He exhales sharply, trying to recall the sentiments that gave him comfort then. ]
For all it's worth, I don't blame you. [ He doesn't. ] And I'm fine. [ He isn't. ] And I'm... sorry I asked about Dan.
[ He is, if only because the lack of answers wasn't worth the trouble.
...And that's about everything he has to say on the subject. ]
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[Now is not, in fact, a good time to talk about people Dean may have killed horribly.]
I'm thinking the one thing I can do is get a drink and try to sleep and hope for the best.
[The implication being You should try to do that, too.]
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Yeah. Sure. I'll- I'll talk to you later.
[ The implication being none in particular. The truth being that Philip has too much to do and too much on his mind to even attempt sleep right now. ]
Take care.
[ He offers a smile as decisive as he can muster and reaches to turn the transmission off. ]
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