May 11, 2009 09:30
Endrance turned his head to look at the intercom, giving it a look that would wither an entire rose garden in an instant. He would never get used to ending up in his room again from somewhere else in the Institute
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methos,
klavier,
tenzen,
tsubaki,
kaiji,
anise,
kamiya kaoru,
rude,
snake,
teisel,
the doctor,
blitzwing,
ken amada,
sam winchester,
utena,
asch,
miku,
zex,
franziska,
misa,
peter parker,
luxord,
raphael,
kanji,
brainiac 5,
the flash,
james bond,
phoenix,
megatron,
albedo,
blue beetle,
van,
eileen,
lord recluse,
peter petrelli,
yohji,
mele,
stahn,
two-face,
akihiko,
ritsuka,
the scarecrow,
sync,
ayumu,
okita,
daphne,
juri,
lockdown,
scourge,
tyki,
yukari yakumo,
haseo,
citan,
kiden,
tony stark,
endrance,
obi-wan kenobi,
kenshin,
senna,
fayt,
hanatarou,
chidori,
sora,
jason,
evangeline,
luffy,
renamon,
claude,
keman,
haruno sakura,
superboy,
edgeworth,
sousuke,
harley,
dean winchester,
hughes,
celes,
hk-47,
sho,
ren,
guy,
kvothe,
kio,
armand,
alessa,
nigredo,
naomi,
wesker,
frey,
valyn,
lelouch,
chise,
ryuk,
yomi,
fai,
leon magnus,
schuldig,
sasuke,
yue,
aidou,
ophelia,
gin,
scar (tlk),
brad,
subaru,
sanzo
Dean Winchester woke up. Really woke up.
Okay, more like woke up feeling like shit, his head pounding. But he woke up as himself.
Even if he didn't know it.
All he could remember was going to sleep last night, mostly to avoid having to talk with Angel and clear up how things went with the "Emily twins", and then...Dean had no idea. Must've overslept, but you weren't supposed to wake up feeling even crappier than before. This wasn't just a case of sleeping in a bad position or on some run down bed (he'd had enough experience to know when it was that or something else). Dean lay there, eyes open in the dark as he cataloged everything that felt wrong. Head and face felt like they'd been run through a meat grinder, breathing stiff like he'd been punched hard with something in the chest. Nose? He didn't think it was broken, but he did know what it felt like when you'd taken a hit smack in the face and that was pretty much was how it felt the morning ( ... )
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About two seconds after Sam walked away from Lelouch, he spotted Dean settling down at a table a ways off. Even from here, he could see how bad his brother looked. He winced internally. For all that Lelouch had been the one to have kick started the whole situation in the first place, Sam was aware that he was directly responsible for taking those hits at Dean. And yeah, there hadn't been a lot of options, but still.
He didn't hesitate to make his way straight over, though on the other hand, he wasn't exactly eager to figure out what he was going to tell Dean about his blanked out memories. A part of him was tempted to just say that Dean got knocked over the head and that was that, but given the fresh set of bruises and whatnot, that wouldn't work. He could play the possession angle except most possessed people knew what had happened. They weren't always awake the entire time, but generally the part where they got black smoke jammed down their throat-they remembered that. He remembered it. Hard to forget ( ... )
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He didn't resist, though, letting Dean turn his face to the side even as he offered a half-hearted, "Dude, I'm fine."
It wasn't that he minded, necessarily. In some ways, it was even welcome as a confirmation that this really was Dean. Lelouch hadn't lied, at least not as far as Sam could tell. Dean was back to normal again. He wasn't under some freaky compulsion to kill Sam, at any rate. But damn it, he wished Dean would pay more attention to himself. Sam was aware he looked bad, but in comparison, Dean was worse off with his accumulation of past injuries. Besides, he wasn't sure he wanted to fall back on old patterns. Or maybe he did, but he knew he shouldn't let himself do that and maybe that ( ... )
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Dean's hand fell when Sam pushed it away, dropping to his lap as he half-straddled the seat so he could better face his brother. Yeah, yeah. Dean knew perfectly well that all things considered, Sam was actually fine - he wasn't dead, this wasn't Cold Oak, which made every alternative to "stone cold dead" as fine - but the fact remained someone had worked over his brother and that didn't and wouldn't ever sit well with him. Dean's eyes were only on Sammy, following his every movement protectively. Luckily he really did seem to be fine, even with the unexplained bruises and scrapes, but that still didn't stop Dean from sitting there stiffly at the table, feeling his fingers curling into fists on his knees on their own and wishing he could throttle something just to get it outta his system. Sam's question, though, did throw him off-balance enough for him to forget for a second just how seriously pissed off he was. Dean chewed on his bottom lip and shrugged ( ... )
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Sam frowned a little when Dean winced at the slight movement. If he hadn't already known without asking that Dean would never agree to it, he might've tried to get him to stay inside tonight and take some downtime before something else came after Dean yet again. Except the only way that would ever work was if Dean thought he was doing it for Sam and Sam knew Dean wouldn't ever buy that Sam wanted a night in under the circumstances ( ... )
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"So you're saying I was possessed?" asked Dean, though it wasn't much of a question at this point. He didn't look entirely sold on the idea, although it was still the best shot they had. "Think I would've remembered getting force-fed some black smoke."
Dean was sure demons could decide if their hosts would remember some of what happened or block the majority of it out - depended on how much of an asshole they were, and dicking around with humans and torturing them by making them watch seemed to be pretty much par for demonic entertainment. Okay, suppose he really had been possessed. Did explain why he had weird injuries, why ( ... )
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What had really happened last night? Why couldn't he remember getting possessed? Had Angel seen anything? Or maybe he'd been possessed too. Either way, Dean couldn't see how Sam got in and out like that. Obviously he wasn't possessed now, which seemed to point at having been exorcised (another thing he didn't remember and should have). Sam could definitely pull off an exorcism by himself - for starters, he knew his Latin and didn't need a cheat-sheet like Dean - but he'd have had to either trapped every single demon in that field for a mass exorcism or dragged him away and privately exorcised him. It wouldn't have been easy. Dean knew he would've been kicking and screaming the whole way, maybe using some TK powers the demon came packaged with or something. Sam could've handled it if he'd had access to the Impala, maybe some prep-time, but he ( ... )
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"You knocked me out," he replied finally.
As long as Dean didn't know how far it'd really gone, he figured he could compromise on that much. Dean would probably feel bad about it, too, but there was a pretty damn big difference between knocking someone out and trying to slit their throat. If Dean thought there had been other possessed patients present at the time, Sam could just blame most of the heavier damage on them instead when it came down to it.
He cast a look at the plate of food and the salt shaker Dean pushed at him. Oh. He kept forgetting that Dean didn't remember, didn't even have, the protection they'd finally decided to get after a bunch of demons had blown out of the gate. Though these ( ... )
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Dean's posture stiffened. Okay, that wasn't that bad except for the part of he didn't remember it and there was no telling what else he'd done when he'd been prisoner inside his own body, riding bitch with a demon as pilot. What about those injuries? He didn't see this mystery demon just being satisfied with knocking Sammy out and leaving him there. Dean looked ready to demand more details, despite the feeling he probably didn't wanna really know, when Sam changed the subject, dodging the plate of food shoved at him and instead pulling his shirt down. Dean's glance followed the movement. The hunter raised an eyebrow ( ... )
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There were more than a few holes in what he'd little he'd told Dean about the tattoo, given the short space of time Dean assumed had passed between them, but Dean didn't prod further. Probably because Dean was mostly still focused on what he'd done while possessed. He hadn't missed the look Dean had given him. If Sam didn't broach the subject now, Dean would eventually bring it up later.
Not that Sam begrudged him for that; he would've done the same. He clearly remembered how pissed he'd gotten at his brother for keeping what he had from him, about what their dad had said, and now-it wasn't that he was suddenly okay with it. It still got to him, that Dean had planned-was still planning-on keeping the fact that he'd sold his soul for so long, though in truth, it was that Dean had so readily damned himself in the first place that ticked him off the most. But it was just...now, he was starting to think maybe he understood. That running the risk of Dean getting angry with him for lying was a better alternative than ( ... )
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Logically, Dean knew perfectly well that there was just no way he could resist a demon invading his body without protection. Sure, he was a hunter, he'd killed a lot of things people couldn't even imagine in their worst nightmares, but end of the day, Dean Winchester was still as much a human as the average, shitting-his-pants civvie. If he got jumped, he got possessed. It wasn't like he could stop whatever happened and it wasn't him attacking his brother. Sure felt like it though. Dean sat there, miserable and trying not to be a pussy and show it, chowing down on the tater tots from the plate between them 'cause he couldn't think of something better to do. Knowing he couldn't have done anything, that technically it wasn't his fault...it didn't make him feel any better ( ... )
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