So far, he's only had himself until Kurda came back. and himself has been telling him it's not okay to be angry with Sam. And now he's being told it is okay, that it doesn't have to make sense... something in him snapped. Gave it up, and let the anger roll beside the grief, letting him move on to phase two in the getting better' process.
The sawn-off that he had secreted on his person is brought out, but he's holding it by what there is of the barrel. He'd holding it that tightly ina shaking grip that the metal is folding in on itself, making it unusable. not that he cares right now. The handle of the weapon is swung towards... past Kurda narrowly, and into the window of the impala. It's a brutal display of how he feels, all smashed glass and dented metal, taking out his anger on the car until his chest is heaving and he's sweating from the exertion. Even after the handle splintered, unable to hold up against his fury and the metal of the car, he kept going. Looks like you'll be getting a rental after you land in plymouth
( ... )
Kurda wanted to stop Dean from doing the Impala any more damage, knowing that he'd regret it, but this was what it was going to take to beat this thing so he let it be.
He moved towards Dean slowly, cautiously, glass crunching underfoot. "Dean...?" his voice was gentle. "It's alright..."
Kurda could sense that it was over, that the unnatural fury polluting Dean's heart had gone, the monster banished, and what was left was natural grieving for the loss of his brother.
He takes a shuddering breath, before he admits. "'M not fine." Which is rather contrary to what he's been saying before. "and it's not alright. He left me here, but he took everything with him. I don't know.... even where to start. I don't know how to live without because I don't know..." He trails off. He doesn't even know who he is. What to do or why he's still here. It doesn't feel right; being here. A small part of him wonders if this isn't similar to how the angry spirits they salt and burn feel, at least at first.
He sighs bitterly, still feeling frustrated, letting himself work through his anger at his brother that hew'd shoved down mercilessly. "He took it all. He didn't even think about it."
"You can do this, Dean - you can adjust. You've adjusted without him before, remember? The way you did with that family... with Lisa and Ben. There's so much more to you than you give yourself credit for." Kurda gently put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "You've got to watch my back and protect me, God knows I need it... Sam had to go, it wasn't his fault and you know that, and I know you're angry that he wanted you to live without him, but he thought it was the right thing. Sam's always wanted the best for you..."
"I know. I know." Though, to be fair, he didn't really live for the first few months with Lisa, either. Drinking too heavily, sat in a deep depression and not even moving off the couch for the first week or more... it was only really because he had the family unit there he was able to start functioning again. It wasn't for him, it was for them. Hell, if it wasn't for them, he probably would have broken Sam's promise and eaten a bullet before managing to pull himself out of it. And damn if he wasn't both grateful and amazed at Lisa and Ben and how they put up with his useless ass.
but inkeeping with this new line of truthfulness... "It feels like the best thing he could have done was hand me a machete on the way out, though." At the moment, at least. but the fact he has done it before, pulled himself out, shows there is hope for him yet. He's just got to find what he's missing...
Kurda stared at Dean for a good long moment, not saying anything, and then very suddenly he firmly backhanded him across the face. "Don't you dare say things like that! Don't you dare!" It took a lot for Kurda to get properly angry, but the thought of Dean taking his own life was enough to spark it. He glared at his friend with a furious fire in his eyes and his teeth gritted. "Are you deaf or something? Didn't you hear me when I said you're all I've got in this world?" The blonde didn't care if he sounded selfish right now, he was giving Dean purpose, even if Dean didn't realise it yet, and everything he said was completely true.
Although he wasn't fully aware of it happening, his subconcious did reach out and grab a hold of that fact.
He suffered the stinging backhand in silence, not complaining about it at all. He deserves it, he knows it. It's not enough just to punish himself mentally, he's got to find fights so he can be punished physically for grieving, too. Push them into hitting him. and in this case, it was just with the truth. He shouldn't be stuck grieving. shouldn't be weak. He's lost that many people, lost Sam so many times, he should be able to suck it up.
When he looks back to Kurda, there is, however, a small spark of defiance in his eyes. Defiance. Something so inherantly part of his personality, naturally it would be the first true sign of life in his eyes apart from anger. Too bad he's trying to prod you into a one-sided fight with it.
"What? You wanted me to stop running, to deal with it. There it is, not for the first time of thinking it, either. I sold my soul to bring him back before, and if sending myself to hell isn't a knife to
( ... )
Kurda was good at reading people, he always had been, and he'd spent so much time with Dean over the decades that he could hear how his brain was working. That Dean would take his life hadn't really come as any surprise, in fact Kurda had expected it. But Dean needed manhandling back to sanity right now - his anger was one of the deepest and rawest parts of him and by bringing that bubbling back to the surface the rest of him was likely to follow
( ... )
Right now, he doesn't care about the world. Kind of pissed at it for going on when his world seemed to have faltered and stopped, actually. But it's okay, it's a healthy kind of pissed off. The kind of pissed off that is not unnatural and he will get over. "The world can bite me." He states simply. "Because sometimes, Batman is Bruce Wayne too."
Then he looks up, hoping he hadn't wrecked their chances of getting away. But this time it's not to run so much. It's for breathing room, to get a fresh space and clear air. "And right now, bruce wayne needs a holiday." He's... more than half-expecting Kurda to have changed his mind.
On the contrary, Kurda was delighted - relieved and delighted. Dean was going to go on, he was focusing on the next step, taking it a hurdle at a time. They could get him through this slowly and gradually, with enough time and patience he was going to be fine, Kurda was completely optiimistic about that, The older vampire smiled at Dean and nodded. "Well we've got a boat to catch, better get a wiggle on if we don't want it to leave without us."
He nods. "Just give me a second." And following that, he makes a call to the guy he knows that started running Bobby's junkyard when the old coot had gone, the boys having been left it in a will they didn't know he had along with everything else. A brief phonecall later in which he says he crashed the car, even if anyone could see otherwise, asking him to pick it up and giving the location of the dock. he hangs up after stating plainly "you trash her and I'll kill you."
He slips his phone away, and turns his attention back to Kurda. "I'm ready. Get our shit out of the car and we can go." He's more than aware that they can't take the entire arsenal, but he's so glad he thought to pack the second shotgun in his bag before they left.
Kurda didn't think the death threats were really necessary, but for once he bit his tongue and just rolled his eyes. He put some of Dean's weapons in his hiking pack, along with the tent and all of his belongings. "We are taking a holiday, so don't bring too many guns."
Kurda never used guns, he refused to, preferring to use a knife or his own two hands if he absolutely had to physically fight.
There was a tall man with a cigarette in his mouth waiting for them when they reached the boat - he was built like a tank and had a mane of red hair. "Thought you weren't going to turn up," he commented in a thick Irish accent. "I always turn up when I say I'm going to, don't I?" Kurda replied, "This is my friend Dean, he'll also be joining us. Dean, this is Aidan, an old friend."
If he was running quite at his usual level, he'd have made a smart-ass joke about a leprachaun, and how this guy was the biggest he'd seen. As it is, he just gives an awkward sort-of wave and a "Hey." before shifting restlessly.
Aidan stepped aside and gestured for Kurda and Dean to board. "Nice to meet you Dean, I hope you've better sea legs than this English pansy. He was about as useful as a chocolate teapot last time I took him in me boat." Kurda smiled weakly as Aidan clapped him on the back rather vigorously and almost sent him flying. "Yes, yes, yes, let's all laugh at the fact I get a little seasick..." he muttered, "Come along Dean, best to unpack whilst we're still sturdy."
He climbs aboard the boat, the ghosts of a smile pulling at his lips. "Sounds like a story I need to hear. You go do your stuff if you need to, I'll go drop mine down in a second." After all, people on boats? Told the best stories and were more than prone to overexaggeration (or at least, that's how it works on TV...) so he's expecting some magical flight of fantasy loosely based on Kurda having spent most of his time with his head over the edge of the boat while something interesting and whatever else was going on.
Kurda grimaced, knowing that the moment he was out of earshot the men would be making fun of him and the light teasing would probably continue for the entire journey. But maybe Aidan would be able to make Dean smile
( ... )
The sawn-off that he had secreted on his person is brought out, but he's holding it by what there is of the barrel. He'd holding it that tightly ina shaking grip that the metal is folding in on itself, making it unusable. not that he cares right now. The handle of the weapon is swung towards... past Kurda narrowly, and into the window of the impala. It's a brutal display of how he feels, all smashed glass and dented metal, taking out his anger on the car until his chest is heaving and he's sweating from the exertion. Even after the handle splintered, unable to hold up against his fury and the metal of the car, he kept going. Looks like you'll be getting a rental after you land in plymouth ( ... )
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He moved towards Dean slowly, cautiously, glass crunching underfoot.
"Dean...?" his voice was gentle. "It's alright..."
Kurda could sense that it was over, that the unnatural fury polluting Dean's heart had gone, the monster banished, and what was left was natural grieving for the loss of his brother.
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He sighs bitterly, still feeling frustrated, letting himself work through his anger at his brother that hew'd shoved down mercilessly. "He took it all. He didn't even think about it."
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Kurda gently put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "You've got to watch my back and protect me, God knows I need it...
Sam had to go, it wasn't his fault and you know that, and I know you're angry that he wanted you to live without him, but he thought it was the right thing. Sam's always wanted the best for you..."
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but inkeeping with this new line of truthfulness... "It feels like the best thing he could have done was hand me a machete on the way out, though." At the moment, at least. but the fact he has done it before, pulled himself out, shows there is hope for him yet. He's just got to find what he's missing...
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"Don't you dare say things like that! Don't you dare!"
It took a lot for Kurda to get properly angry, but the thought of Dean taking his own life was enough to spark it. He glared at his friend with a furious fire in his eyes and his teeth gritted.
"Are you deaf or something? Didn't you hear me when I said you're all I've got in this world?"
The blonde didn't care if he sounded selfish right now, he was giving Dean purpose, even if Dean didn't realise it yet, and everything he said was completely true.
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He suffered the stinging backhand in silence, not complaining about it at all. He deserves it, he knows it. It's not enough just to punish himself mentally, he's got to find fights so he can be punished physically for grieving, too. Push them into hitting him. and in this case, it was just with the truth. He shouldn't be stuck grieving. shouldn't be weak. He's lost that many people, lost Sam so many times, he should be able to suck it up.
When he looks back to Kurda, there is, however, a small spark of defiance in his eyes. Defiance. Something so inherantly part of his personality, naturally it would be the first true sign of life in his eyes apart from anger. Too bad he's trying to prod you into a one-sided fight with it.
"What? You wanted me to stop running, to deal with it. There it is, not for the first time of thinking it, either. I sold my soul to bring him back before, and if sending myself to hell isn't a knife to ( ... )
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Then he looks up, hoping he hadn't wrecked their chances of getting away. But this time it's not to run so much. It's for breathing room, to get a fresh space and clear air. "And right now, bruce wayne needs a holiday." He's... more than half-expecting Kurda to have changed his mind.
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The older vampire smiled at Dean and nodded.
"Well we've got a boat to catch, better get a wiggle on if we don't want it to leave without us."
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He slips his phone away, and turns his attention back to Kurda. "I'm ready. Get our shit out of the car and we can go." He's more than aware that they can't take the entire arsenal, but he's so glad he thought to pack the second shotgun in his bag before they left.
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He put some of Dean's weapons in his hiking pack, along with the tent and all of his belongings.
"We are taking a holiday, so don't bring too many guns."
Kurda never used guns, he refused to, preferring to use a knife or his own two hands if he absolutely had to physically fight.
There was a tall man with a cigarette in his mouth waiting for them when they reached the boat - he was built like a tank and had a mane of red hair.
"Thought you weren't going to turn up," he commented in a thick Irish accent.
"I always turn up when I say I'm going to, don't I?" Kurda replied, "This is my friend Dean, he'll also be joining us. Dean, this is Aidan, an old friend."
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"Nice to meet you Dean, I hope you've better sea legs than this English pansy. He was about as useful as a chocolate teapot last time I took him in me boat."
Kurda smiled weakly as Aidan clapped him on the back rather vigorously and almost sent him flying.
"Yes, yes, yes, let's all laugh at the fact I get a little seasick..." he muttered, "Come along Dean, best to unpack whilst we're still sturdy."
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