i'm slippin' into the lava | and i'm tryin' to keep from goin' under
Characters: Dean Winchester, Ruby
Rating: Probably R for language. It's... Dean and Ruby. And Dean's already missing his pants.
Time Period: Modern
Location: Kitchen.
Relative Date: Following close upon this.
Status: Closed. PM if you wish to join. Completed.
Something was off.
Beyond being trapped in this place, by forces that could keep a goddamn angel at bay with ease. Beyond the fact that they might have accidentally banished Cas out of Jimmy's body into some nether dimension, for all they knew.
That was all actually pretty standard business as usual for the Winchester boys.
But the fact that Dean felt like his entire body was literally scalding, as if he was stuck outside in the desert on a hot day?
Was just one hop step too far over the line today.
He didn't even wait to see if Sammy followed him when he told him he was going to fetch some water. He just booked it down the corridors, checking rooms left and right and continuously wiping sweat off his brow that wasn't actually there. His hand would come away from his forehead completely dry, and just as warm as the rest of him.
It felt almost like having one foot back in the big deep fryer downstairs. Which was not a thought that was particularly pleasant to entertain.
When he finally found the kitchen, he released an audible groan of relief, and scrambled for a cup, holding it under the tap, fingers splashing through the stream to make sure it was frigid before he filled it to the brim. He guzzled half of it down before he'd even realized it, and... still noticed no difference.
"You've got to be freaking kiddin' me," he protested out loud, and his eye caught the fridge door. He looked between the cup, and the fridge, and the cup and the fridge once more, and then threw the cup back in the sink, and yanked open the freezer.
The blast of cold air felt straight up divine, and he stood there in front of it, just soaking it in for a minute. But he was still uncomfortably sticky, and after about two seconds of thought, he decided maybe he could just... throw his clothes in the freezer a minute, and then put 'em back on. It sounded like a good idea at the time.
He whipped off and bundled up his pants quickly and stuck them in there, below the ice cube tray, and then just took another moment to stick his head back in the freezer all the way, bent over with his boxers hanging out behind him.
He didn't hear the footsteps.
Naturally.
Rating: Probably R for language. It's... Dean and Ruby. And Dean's already missing his pants.
Time Period: Modern
Location: Kitchen.
Relative Date: Following close upon this.
Status: Closed. PM if you wish to join. Completed.
Something was off.
Beyond being trapped in this place, by forces that could keep a goddamn angel at bay with ease. Beyond the fact that they might have accidentally banished Cas out of Jimmy's body into some nether dimension, for all they knew.
That was all actually pretty standard business as usual for the Winchester boys.
But the fact that Dean felt like his entire body was literally scalding, as if he was stuck outside in the desert on a hot day?
Was just one hop step too far over the line today.
He didn't even wait to see if Sammy followed him when he told him he was going to fetch some water. He just booked it down the corridors, checking rooms left and right and continuously wiping sweat off his brow that wasn't actually there. His hand would come away from his forehead completely dry, and just as warm as the rest of him.
It felt almost like having one foot back in the big deep fryer downstairs. Which was not a thought that was particularly pleasant to entertain.
When he finally found the kitchen, he released an audible groan of relief, and scrambled for a cup, holding it under the tap, fingers splashing through the stream to make sure it was frigid before he filled it to the brim. He guzzled half of it down before he'd even realized it, and... still noticed no difference.
"You've got to be freaking kiddin' me," he protested out loud, and his eye caught the fridge door. He looked between the cup, and the fridge, and the cup and the fridge once more, and then threw the cup back in the sink, and yanked open the freezer.
The blast of cold air felt straight up divine, and he stood there in front of it, just soaking it in for a minute. But he was still uncomfortably sticky, and after about two seconds of thought, he decided maybe he could just... throw his clothes in the freezer a minute, and then put 'em back on. It sounded like a good idea at the time.
He whipped off and bundled up his pants quickly and stuck them in there, below the ice cube tray, and then just took another moment to stick his head back in the freezer all the way, bent over with his boxers hanging out behind him.
He didn't hear the footsteps.
Naturally.