So that fantastic, all-expenses-paid weekend getaway you had planned--you cancelled that, right? You're ready for this? BECAUSE I AM READY FOR THIS. MY BODY IS READY FOR THIS. In anticipation of S9, let's pour some chum in the waters. Bring on the Dean!pain (and comfort!). >:D
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R rating for excessive f-bombs.
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The first time it happens, it jerks Dean out of what he's sure is about to be a dead sleep any moment now. They've just finally finished a really, really irritating hunt that's basically had them both up for days, and just when Dean's finally starting to relax and let himself sink into the latest crappy motel bed, something fucking explodes so fucking loud and close it feels like it happens inside his head.
He's on his feet, knife up and ready before he can even finish the mental what the fuck was that? He comes up facing the window, and the light around the blinds is red and hot and he thinks this is it, the world is so fucked it's actually on fire and goddammit, he knew -- knew -- they never should have come to the East Coast because he's pretty sure someone flew a nuclear plane into DC and they're about to be swallowed by the giant wall of radioactive fire coming out of the place ( ... )
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It sounds like someone shooting.
In his head.
Dean jerks awake, same as last time, his hand grabbing for the nearest weapon before he can register that, oh yeah, this has happened before. He knows what this is. He relaxes his grip on the gun on his bed side table, eases himself back down onto the pillow and tries to will his heart to stop pounding so he can go back to sleep.
That's what this is, after all. It's just his stupid, fucked up head telling him he's not sleeping enough. The only thing to do about it is just to, as SLJ and that children's book so helpfully put it, go the fuck to sleep.
DEAN.
He shoots up again, hand slamming back down on the grip of his pistol. That wasn't any fucking "sleep start". That wasn't a random ( ... )
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