→ Heard a cry for mercy in the city of the damned
Who: travelin_on Dean and andifell Cas (possibly hauntedhunter whenever April gets back)
Where: Winchester apartment. (Tentatively Horton 105)
When: December 29th during the darkness
Rating: D FOR DEPRESSING. IDK mature themes, talk of blood, gore, death. Trigger warnings for thoughts of suicide and the like.
Summary: Dean was barely coping as is then the darkness and Dementors started to sap his strength.
The Log:
Between the darkness, the snow and the bitter temperatures, Dean was more than trapped inside their apartment. He was restless, pacing the length of their place and trying his damnedest to keep his head together. But as the days melted together into endless night he could feel himself start to slip. His tentative grasp on his strength, his mentality and emotions was growing weaker by the minute. He was left with double checking food, supplies, drinking all of his whiskey and taking apart his gun to pass time.
He'd probably disassembled and reassembled all the weapons he could, the last being his own revolver. Once he slid the clip back into place he found himself staring at it, curiously studying the silver barrel and knowing damn well it was loaded. Thoughts started to float through his head before he set the damn weapon down and went back to pacing before he did anything stupid.
He wasn't voicing it but there were plenty of things running through his mind at that moment. The most recent failure and loss of Ellen and Joe weighing the heaviest. He blamed himself for their death and in the end it was for nothing. They didn't kill Lucifer, the Colt only managed to piss him off. Then to have Cas tell him that Sam was going to say YES to the sonnovabitch and throw himself into the cage? He couldn't stand it. He was going to lose his brother either way.
All of his failures. Every time he lost Sam, how they struggled, going to hell or watching Sam die, watching his Father die. Everything in his life suddenly started to become an unbearable weight. He was quickly overwhelmed to the point he needed to feel numb or lose it completely.
So he drank himself into a stupor, sitting in a corner of the floor trying so hard not to break completely. A glint at the corner of his vision caught his eye and he reached out to take the revolver off the dresser. He held it loosely in his hands and stared at it. All he could think of was how he couldn't go home. How shitty his life was there and how it wasn't any better in this place either. Much of the same only their Apocalypse happened. What difference did it make? They were on another world and he still couldn't escape this life.
What other choice did he have? If he didn't want to feel anything anymore he could end it. It'd be so easy...
Where: Winchester apartment. (Tentatively Horton 105)
When: December 29th during the darkness
Rating: D FOR DEPRESSING. IDK mature themes, talk of blood, gore, death. Trigger warnings for thoughts of suicide and the like.
Summary: Dean was barely coping as is then the darkness and Dementors started to sap his strength.
The Log:
Between the darkness, the snow and the bitter temperatures, Dean was more than trapped inside their apartment. He was restless, pacing the length of their place and trying his damnedest to keep his head together. But as the days melted together into endless night he could feel himself start to slip. His tentative grasp on his strength, his mentality and emotions was growing weaker by the minute. He was left with double checking food, supplies, drinking all of his whiskey and taking apart his gun to pass time.
He'd probably disassembled and reassembled all the weapons he could, the last being his own revolver. Once he slid the clip back into place he found himself staring at it, curiously studying the silver barrel and knowing damn well it was loaded. Thoughts started to float through his head before he set the damn weapon down and went back to pacing before he did anything stupid.
He wasn't voicing it but there were plenty of things running through his mind at that moment. The most recent failure and loss of Ellen and Joe weighing the heaviest. He blamed himself for their death and in the end it was for nothing. They didn't kill Lucifer, the Colt only managed to piss him off. Then to have Cas tell him that Sam was going to say YES to the sonnovabitch and throw himself into the cage? He couldn't stand it. He was going to lose his brother either way.
All of his failures. Every time he lost Sam, how they struggled, going to hell or watching Sam die, watching his Father die. Everything in his life suddenly started to become an unbearable weight. He was quickly overwhelmed to the point he needed to feel numb or lose it completely.
So he drank himself into a stupor, sitting in a corner of the floor trying so hard not to break completely. A glint at the corner of his vision caught his eye and he reached out to take the revolver off the dresser. He held it loosely in his hands and stared at it. All he could think of was how he couldn't go home. How shitty his life was there and how it wasn't any better in this place either. Much of the same only their Apocalypse happened. What difference did it make? They were on another world and he still couldn't escape this life.
What other choice did he have? If he didn't want to feel anything anymore he could end it. It'd be so easy...