I'm all right, I'm ok. [OPEN]
When people were arranging for sleeping space in the new crew quarters, Dean just grabbed a room. Not bothering to ask for roomies, or look for offers. When (If) Sam wakes up, the other space was his. In the meantime, Dean set up his few belongings, including some of the supplies from the Impala. He was glad to find his dad's journal among those belongings, and occasionally flipped through it. He kept his guns cleaned before going to sleep at night.
Or rather, seeming to go to sleep. He hadn't had a full night since waking up in the pods. Maybe it was the zombies, maybe it was the Ohm, but in any case, nightmares of Hell had been playing frequently in his headspace. He buffeted offers of sedatives, and would instead pace the room or borrow music from the Media library to blast out to keep himself awake. It was getting to the point of only sleeping a few measly hours a night but Dean felt used to it. It didn't matter, he could handle it. He also taken to roaming the hallways or checking on the Impala. Any way to feel less alone. Kept him from the overwhelming fear that he had been left behind. Left behind by his brother, Bobby, Castiel, hell the whole damn world and universe went away, and it was just him.
His steps took him into the Sensoriums, and this time it was the Roadhouse. His mind couldn't stop him from populating it with fake people as he sat at the fake bar with a fake drink. Maybe he could drink enough to pass out without any dreams at all. Wouldn't that be a change?
Or rather, seeming to go to sleep. He hadn't had a full night since waking up in the pods. Maybe it was the zombies, maybe it was the Ohm, but in any case, nightmares of Hell had been playing frequently in his headspace. He buffeted offers of sedatives, and would instead pace the room or borrow music from the Media library to blast out to keep himself awake. It was getting to the point of only sleeping a few measly hours a night but Dean felt used to it. It didn't matter, he could handle it. He also taken to roaming the hallways or checking on the Impala. Any way to feel less alone. Kept him from the overwhelming fear that he had been left behind. Left behind by his brother, Bobby, Castiel, hell the whole damn world and universe went away, and it was just him.
His steps took him into the Sensoriums, and this time it was the Roadhouse. His mind couldn't stop him from populating it with fake people as he sat at the fake bar with a fake drink. Maybe he could drink enough to pass out without any dreams at all. Wouldn't that be a change?