twenty-three beers
[ video post ]
[ the camera comes into slow focus with a scratchy 'thump' noise, facing up from the ground at an awkward angle. it catches the two brown-haired boys leaning backward against a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, drinking glass bottles of root beer. the video lasts a ponderous five or six minutes, simply recording the two to a backdrop of a slightly tinny rendition of Pink Floyd ponderously coming out of the car radio. and then...Sam speaks. ]
"You know, Dean, it's kind of strange, isn't it, what... we said back there. I mean, don't get me wrong, I know that it was the Siren messing with our heads, but it's like no matter how hard we try, they know our weaknesses now-- that we are each other's weaknesses.
Just seems that after all of that, we've almost forgotten how to use each other as our strengths. I know we can. For years, we--"
[ and then, whirling where he stands and tossing the empty bottle into the back seat of the car as he walks away with intent...Dean speaks.]
"THAT BITCH IS HERE AND SHE STILL OWES ME FOURTY THOUSAND DOLLARS!"
"...Dean. Dean!"
[ooc: the boys are back in town &etc. and updated to sex and violence. ps, dear bela, RUN.]