[ Voice | Failed Deity Filter ]
[Once again, he's very very clearly drunk. And has been ever since Dean died, so there's no question as to what this post is about. Sorry Dawn, sorry Hanna, but he just can't fucking take it anymore.]
It's been three days and he's still not back
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Who's takin' whatnow? Sam-
[Rolls up into a sitting position, squinting a little when her head throbs] Where are you? The apartment? God, what time is it... [Clearly, Jo's not the MOST HELPFUL person right now, but she's starting to get the same worry that Sam has. It's been too long.]
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You're drunk. You shouldn't be drunk. Are you okay?
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M'not that drunk anymore, and that isn't even a question I shouldn't.
Hn.
I shouldn't have to answer that. [Zombie Jo needs to wake up.]
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Be careful, Jo.
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Can I come sit with you?
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Sure.
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Jo sets them down on the table near Sam's bed, then plops down near his knees.]
This sucks. [That covered it nicely.]
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That's one way to put it. [No eye contact, he's just staring down at his sheets. His voice is much quieter for this second statement.] Another would be that this hurts more than when he went to Hell.
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At least here you know you'll get him back. Uh, we will. And there's no way Dean's in some place like the pit right now. No portrait in that weird-ass hall either, so he's still here.
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..I know that, wherever he is, it's not as bad as the Pit, but. [These three days have almost been harder than the four months he spent without him. But she doesn't need to know that so he just shakes his head.] He should be back by now.
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