[complete]
WHO: Dean Winchester [canecieco] and Kristoph Gavin [myscarsmiles]
WHAT: Dean screws up, freaks out, and calls Kristoph.
WHERE: Dean & Kristoph’s respective domiciles.
WHEN: Day 0398402934, Approximately 5:30 AM
He was stupid. He was impulsive, selfish, fucked. All the things that Sam called him, all the things that Sam warned him about. Dean didn't know why he did it, coming home at fuck o'clock in the morning, fucking with his computer, reading his emails, then going through accounts, accounts. Something had to be done right? Franky didn't deserve to be taken out, and no one wanted Hijikata in the business anymore.
But the boss's son.
Jesus fuck.
Waking up, Dean turned over on the sofa, looking at his watch. It was 5:30, and he just spent the last minutes in agony from his headache and in agony over his stupid decision.
He had to call someone, had to let someone know.
Before he knew who to call, what to properly do, his fingers were already punching down buttons on his phone, and calling Kris.
Kristoph had fallen asleep almost immediately after he'd finished the conversation with Ciel. Irritated with the brat for calling him at 4:30 in the morning over something that could have waited for when the sun was up, he set his clock for a couple hours extra and drifted back off. He had plans to make, things to begin to set in motion regarding Hijikata and Ciel. Maybe Dean, too. He would miss a meeting for black tie and not be able to cook breakfast.
Suffice to say, waking up to his phone ring an hour later nearly made him want to throw things. He rolled over and stared blearily at it, pulling the device close so he could read the name. Dean. If Dean was calling him over some dumb STD he'd gotten or his next drunken exploit or drunk-dialing him, he was going to snap and possibly poison the caporegime.
"Dean," he half-growled into the phone, patience and mask entirely lost. He was not the polite, condescending Kristoph Gavin. He was pissed off, and Kristoph was rarely pissed off. "If this isn't of monumental importance, I am going to be very displeased."
The voice on the other end of the line did not sound very pleasing or soothing as Dean was accustomed to. He paused for a moment, kind of fumbling around with the phone before deciding that he should probably say something before Kris hung up on him, and all hope was lost in the winds.
"I fucked up," he blurted out, one hand in his hair ready to tear it out of frustration. "I really fucked up this time, dude. I got into Sam's fucking computer, and -- jesus, have you heard from Ciel?"
"I'm going with Ciel to remove Miss Rhode Kamelot from the clutches of the anti-mafia commission. He decided this could not wait until seven in the morning, and decided to call me about an hour ago. I was asleep, as people generally do at five-thirty, and this is now the second time I have been woken up. What are you doing with your brother's computer, and what does this have to do with Ciel, and more importantly, why can't you wait till seven or eight?"
OK, OK. Good. There was a chance Ciel might still be alive or...fuck it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"Fuck," he whined. "I - you know about fucking Hijikata and the shit he's been pulling? I thought I could get him off, you know. Knock him down a few pegs, so I kind of made a fucking hit. N - not on him, but fuck. Shit."
Kristoph took a deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror placed on the far wall opposite from his bed. Snapping at Dean wouldn't work - he was accustomed to that. He rubbed at his eyes and put his glasses on, throwing the sheets off and going downstairs with the phone. Apparently, he was destined to not sleep. Breakfast was necessary. Glad Envy had moved out (for he could now again stalk around in his boxers), he walked down the steps as he listened to Dean ramble and make no sense.
There was something, though. Something that put a very bad taste in his mouth. But he couldn't let his temper get the best of him - it was an unaffordable loss of control. Dean tended to deal with mistakes with anger rather than panic, and this only leant to possible severity of the situation.
"Dean," he said, his voice returned to it's usual calming, relaxed state. "Please take a breath. Tell me who you have made a hit on, what it has to do Ciel and Hijikata."
He did as Kristoph commanded instantly, like some force of habit he could not shake off. It appeared to work for a second, making him think more clearly about the pile of shit he landed in.
"I moved some money from Hijikata's account to make it look like he put the order for some whack job to take out Ciel," he growled. "But I didn't fucking -- I told the guy not to take him out, just rough him up a little. I want the bastard out, Kris. Not Ciel. No, not him. Hijikata."
For one of the few times in life, Kristoph was genuinely speechless. He made a gaping noise at the phone, and even let the fridge closed when he had opened it for eggs. "Wait," he said, opening the fridge again and pulling out three eggs, cheese, and ham. "Dean, did you put a hit on the heir to the Vescovo name?"
When he put it that way...Dean had to swear loudly again. At this rate, Sam was going to get out of bed, and ask what the fuck was going on. OK, get up. A little wobbly on the legs, but he could still walk. Get his jacket, get his keys, open the door, and get the fuck out.
"Not to kill him!" Dean tried to explain, descending the stairs of his apartment building. "Rough him up a little, ya know."
Kristoph turned the oven and skillfully one-handedly cracked the eggs into a bowl as he took the phone in his hand. "How you manage to do these things and remain a living man, and a caporegime at that - utterly befuddles me, Dean. I can honestly not believe you have seriously done this. Though, to be honest, I'm surprised that you, in your idiocy, had the forethought to move the money."
He sighed and poured the eggs into the pan, waiting for it to just congeal a little to make himself an omelette. "Where did you send him? The manor? Did honestly think the man would be able to get himself inside?"
And while under the influence of alcohol at that. Dean Winchester was truly the next Messiah, and the world was going to be doomed all over again. Wasn't life swell?
"Before I was checkin' up on Sam's emails. Kind of doing the spying shit," he sighed, opening the door, and stepping out into the cold air. It hit him like a gunshot. He shivered, walking down the side walk in the darkness. "Ciel's off picking up Rhode from AMC custody, I think."
Kristoph glared at his eggs and decided against an omelette, scrambling them viciously, like they were Dean. They were very scrambled eggs indeed. "Well, I'm glad to see you actually planned this out without planning it out." His voice was icy, but it faded after a while, and he sighed. "Very well, we'll make this best of this. Perhaps it can even work out our advantage, assuming you do not land the heir apparent in the Emergency Room.”
He sat down in a chair and closed his eyes and thought, brain crackling with effort. Steps had to be covered. Blame had to be properly placed. Kristoph liked a good frame. He was good at planning them and though perhaps doing it on the fly wasn't quite his style, he could do this. "Are you listening, Dean?" He said, and his voice was sharp with command.
"Yeah - Yeah, I am," Dean answered, shakily.
"This is what you are going to do." He said, his voice firm - if Dean could not have confidence in himself, he could have it in Kristoph, that voice said. "First, you are going to call Tieria Erde and tell him Hijikata has transferred however much you paid the hitman from his account. Tell him you saw it on a post-it for your brother and decided to do it yourself. If Tieria asks why, just say that you don't know and weren't told. Then, call Ciel and tell him you were bored and looking through Sam's computer and saw all the money leave Hijikata's account, and are concerned about him because he's recently clashed with Hijikata. Then, call me as soon as you were done. Do you understand, Mr. Winchester?"
Dean nodded along, trying to take in everything as best as he could. Kris was always good for coming up with plans, keeping his cool. Fuck, why was he such an idiot?
"Yeah, I get it."
"Then, after you call me and I make sure you haven't made any more enormously monumental mistakes, you will pretend all of this never happened. I will speak to Ciel when I see him later today and tell him what he needs to know. Rest assured, I will leave your name out of it. And of course, if anything happens to Ciel, you know who's fault it is - not yours, by the way. At least this presents us the possibility for... upward momentum."
This could work. This could be fixed. This could even work to their advantage, and Dean could finally let out a breath he had been holding in for too long.
"OK, I'll call everyone now before...yeah."
"Good. I'll be expecting you to call me back shortly."
Kristoph hung up. His eggs were burnt to a crisp. Allowing his rage to bubble to the surface, he snarled and snapped at the pan, then slammed it into the tile floor and watched the charred egg roll out.
WHAT: Dean screws up, freaks out, and calls Kristoph.
WHERE: Dean & Kristoph’s respective domiciles.
WHEN: Day 0398402934, Approximately 5:30 AM
He was stupid. He was impulsive, selfish, fucked. All the things that Sam called him, all the things that Sam warned him about. Dean didn't know why he did it, coming home at fuck o'clock in the morning, fucking with his computer, reading his emails, then going through accounts, accounts. Something had to be done right? Franky didn't deserve to be taken out, and no one wanted Hijikata in the business anymore.
But the boss's son.
Jesus fuck.
Waking up, Dean turned over on the sofa, looking at his watch. It was 5:30, and he just spent the last minutes in agony from his headache and in agony over his stupid decision.
He had to call someone, had to let someone know.
Before he knew who to call, what to properly do, his fingers were already punching down buttons on his phone, and calling Kris.
Kristoph had fallen asleep almost immediately after he'd finished the conversation with Ciel. Irritated with the brat for calling him at 4:30 in the morning over something that could have waited for when the sun was up, he set his clock for a couple hours extra and drifted back off. He had plans to make, things to begin to set in motion regarding Hijikata and Ciel. Maybe Dean, too. He would miss a meeting for black tie and not be able to cook breakfast.
Suffice to say, waking up to his phone ring an hour later nearly made him want to throw things. He rolled over and stared blearily at it, pulling the device close so he could read the name. Dean. If Dean was calling him over some dumb STD he'd gotten or his next drunken exploit or drunk-dialing him, he was going to snap and possibly poison the caporegime.
"Dean," he half-growled into the phone, patience and mask entirely lost. He was not the polite, condescending Kristoph Gavin. He was pissed off, and Kristoph was rarely pissed off. "If this isn't of monumental importance, I am going to be very displeased."
The voice on the other end of the line did not sound very pleasing or soothing as Dean was accustomed to. He paused for a moment, kind of fumbling around with the phone before deciding that he should probably say something before Kris hung up on him, and all hope was lost in the winds.
"I fucked up," he blurted out, one hand in his hair ready to tear it out of frustration. "I really fucked up this time, dude. I got into Sam's fucking computer, and -- jesus, have you heard from Ciel?"
"I'm going with Ciel to remove Miss Rhode Kamelot from the clutches of the anti-mafia commission. He decided this could not wait until seven in the morning, and decided to call me about an hour ago. I was asleep, as people generally do at five-thirty, and this is now the second time I have been woken up. What are you doing with your brother's computer, and what does this have to do with Ciel, and more importantly, why can't you wait till seven or eight?"
OK, OK. Good. There was a chance Ciel might still be alive or...fuck it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"Fuck," he whined. "I - you know about fucking Hijikata and the shit he's been pulling? I thought I could get him off, you know. Knock him down a few pegs, so I kind of made a fucking hit. N - not on him, but fuck. Shit."
Kristoph took a deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror placed on the far wall opposite from his bed. Snapping at Dean wouldn't work - he was accustomed to that. He rubbed at his eyes and put his glasses on, throwing the sheets off and going downstairs with the phone. Apparently, he was destined to not sleep. Breakfast was necessary. Glad Envy had moved out (for he could now again stalk around in his boxers), he walked down the steps as he listened to Dean ramble and make no sense.
There was something, though. Something that put a very bad taste in his mouth. But he couldn't let his temper get the best of him - it was an unaffordable loss of control. Dean tended to deal with mistakes with anger rather than panic, and this only leant to possible severity of the situation.
"Dean," he said, his voice returned to it's usual calming, relaxed state. "Please take a breath. Tell me who you have made a hit on, what it has to do Ciel and Hijikata."
He did as Kristoph commanded instantly, like some force of habit he could not shake off. It appeared to work for a second, making him think more clearly about the pile of shit he landed in.
"I moved some money from Hijikata's account to make it look like he put the order for some whack job to take out Ciel," he growled. "But I didn't fucking -- I told the guy not to take him out, just rough him up a little. I want the bastard out, Kris. Not Ciel. No, not him. Hijikata."
For one of the few times in life, Kristoph was genuinely speechless. He made a gaping noise at the phone, and even let the fridge closed when he had opened it for eggs. "Wait," he said, opening the fridge again and pulling out three eggs, cheese, and ham. "Dean, did you put a hit on the heir to the Vescovo name?"
When he put it that way...Dean had to swear loudly again. At this rate, Sam was going to get out of bed, and ask what the fuck was going on. OK, get up. A little wobbly on the legs, but he could still walk. Get his jacket, get his keys, open the door, and get the fuck out.
"Not to kill him!" Dean tried to explain, descending the stairs of his apartment building. "Rough him up a little, ya know."
Kristoph turned the oven and skillfully one-handedly cracked the eggs into a bowl as he took the phone in his hand. "How you manage to do these things and remain a living man, and a caporegime at that - utterly befuddles me, Dean. I can honestly not believe you have seriously done this. Though, to be honest, I'm surprised that you, in your idiocy, had the forethought to move the money."
He sighed and poured the eggs into the pan, waiting for it to just congeal a little to make himself an omelette. "Where did you send him? The manor? Did honestly think the man would be able to get himself inside?"
And while under the influence of alcohol at that. Dean Winchester was truly the next Messiah, and the world was going to be doomed all over again. Wasn't life swell?
"Before I was checkin' up on Sam's emails. Kind of doing the spying shit," he sighed, opening the door, and stepping out into the cold air. It hit him like a gunshot. He shivered, walking down the side walk in the darkness. "Ciel's off picking up Rhode from AMC custody, I think."
Kristoph glared at his eggs and decided against an omelette, scrambling them viciously, like they were Dean. They were very scrambled eggs indeed. "Well, I'm glad to see you actually planned this out without planning it out." His voice was icy, but it faded after a while, and he sighed. "Very well, we'll make this best of this. Perhaps it can even work out our advantage, assuming you do not land the heir apparent in the Emergency Room.”
He sat down in a chair and closed his eyes and thought, brain crackling with effort. Steps had to be covered. Blame had to be properly placed. Kristoph liked a good frame. He was good at planning them and though perhaps doing it on the fly wasn't quite his style, he could do this. "Are you listening, Dean?" He said, and his voice was sharp with command.
"Yeah - Yeah, I am," Dean answered, shakily.
"This is what you are going to do." He said, his voice firm - if Dean could not have confidence in himself, he could have it in Kristoph, that voice said. "First, you are going to call Tieria Erde and tell him Hijikata has transferred however much you paid the hitman from his account. Tell him you saw it on a post-it for your brother and decided to do it yourself. If Tieria asks why, just say that you don't know and weren't told. Then, call Ciel and tell him you were bored and looking through Sam's computer and saw all the money leave Hijikata's account, and are concerned about him because he's recently clashed with Hijikata. Then, call me as soon as you were done. Do you understand, Mr. Winchester?"
Dean nodded along, trying to take in everything as best as he could. Kris was always good for coming up with plans, keeping his cool. Fuck, why was he such an idiot?
"Yeah, I get it."
"Then, after you call me and I make sure you haven't made any more enormously monumental mistakes, you will pretend all of this never happened. I will speak to Ciel when I see him later today and tell him what he needs to know. Rest assured, I will leave your name out of it. And of course, if anything happens to Ciel, you know who's fault it is - not yours, by the way. At least this presents us the possibility for... upward momentum."
This could work. This could be fixed. This could even work to their advantage, and Dean could finally let out a breath he had been holding in for too long.
"OK, I'll call everyone now before...yeah."
"Good. I'll be expecting you to call me back shortly."
Kristoph hung up. His eggs were burnt to a crisp. Allowing his rage to bubble to the surface, he snarled and snapped at the pan, then slammed it into the tile floor and watched the charred egg roll out.