(no subject)
Who: Sam onetruevessel, Dean lazarus_rises, Castiel Jimmy errant_angel
Where: Riverbank
When: Late afternoon
Summary: Fishing!
Rating: PG-13 for Dean's language
On the surface, fishing did seem like a really strange activity for Dean Winchester to suggest. Grilling, sure, poker, hell yeah. But fishing? It requires a certain amount of patience and quiet that he lacks. And one of the reasons that he lacked it was because his life simply hadn't allowed for it.
Fishing was peace and quiet in its purest, most simplest form. Maybe that's why Dean dreamed about it. It was the life he'd never known, could never have. Even in World's End, where he was removed from the Apocalypse (granted, he didn't choose it that way), there hadn't been time to enjoy it.
He had to make some time. Even if his mind screamed that there was still work to be done in every direction. He'd lost his brother twice. He'd returned for a third time. They had to go fishing, at least once.
Besides, maybe stabbing a worm with a hook would make him feel more comfortable about his manhood again. You know, in light of what Sam had said -- had accused him of doing.
It might also take his mind off of Cas. Dean was still worried about the angel, even though he could spot the angel's meat suit on the edge of the riverbank up ahead. Dean held up the bucket in one hand and the six pack in the other.
"Who's ready to do some fishing!"
Where: Riverbank
When: Late afternoon
Summary: Fishing!
Rating: PG-13 for Dean's language
On the surface, fishing did seem like a really strange activity for Dean Winchester to suggest. Grilling, sure, poker, hell yeah. But fishing? It requires a certain amount of patience and quiet that he lacks. And one of the reasons that he lacked it was because his life simply hadn't allowed for it.
Fishing was peace and quiet in its purest, most simplest form. Maybe that's why Dean dreamed about it. It was the life he'd never known, could never have. Even in World's End, where he was removed from the Apocalypse (granted, he didn't choose it that way), there hadn't been time to enjoy it.
He had to make some time. Even if his mind screamed that there was still work to be done in every direction. He'd lost his brother twice. He'd returned for a third time. They had to go fishing, at least once.
Besides, maybe stabbing a worm with a hook would make him feel more comfortable about his manhood again. You know, in light of what Sam had said -- had accused him of doing.
It might also take his mind off of Cas. Dean was still worried about the angel, even though he could spot the angel's meat suit on the edge of the riverbank up ahead. Dean held up the bucket in one hand and the six pack in the other.
"Who's ready to do some fishing!"