Babysitting

[evilhandissue]

Takes place time wise after Meg is revealed and Alec has been altered...Lindsey walked into the Winchester house, closing his eyes as he sensed which beings were currently inside. The dog, the Hell Hound spawn that Sam had found to protect his brother, looked up from the spot on the couch that he had fallen asleep

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[smart_alec494]

The lump made a small mewling noise and burrowed down farther into the cushions. One hand could be seen, still wrapped in a soft, supportive brace, fingers burried in the dog's warm fur.

[evilhandissue]

"I'll take that as bacon then." Lindsey rolled his eyes as he rolled up his sleeves and went to work making waffles since the house had a waffle iron that had not been used in far too long.

"I had a cat once when I was a kid that ate bacon. Loved the chewy kind. hacked it up afterwards."

[smart_alec494]

The dog clearly liked the idea of bacon. It shifted like it was thinking about going to the kitchen to be closer to the source, but then it wuffled Alec through the blanket and settled. Alec would just give him baconny goodness for free. Lindsey would make him beg and maybe not give in anyway.

Alec's stomach rolled at the thought of hacking anything up, and at the thought of food. Then it decided it wanted food. He hated that feeling. Hungry-sick. He hated most feelings right now. "Had a balimic cat." It was mumbled and mashed into a cushion. He winced at the sound of his own voice. He'd been picking some pretty random shit to say lately when he spoke at all.

[evilhandissue]

Lindsey thought a moment. "I guess it was bulimic. Skinny as could be. All the neighborhood tom cats loved her. We had more barn kittens from her than any of the others."

While the waffles cooked and the bacon fried, he started to refill the fridge. What was it with the fast food and the beer? Didn't these guys eat anything healthy?

Lindsey may be dead, but he still ate like he planned on living a long, healthy life.

[smart_alec494]

"Heat burns calories like a bitch." He sniffed, glad his nose was starting work right again. He was still trying to decide if he wanted to eat or puke. Or maybe just shoot himself in the head, but the mere thought of the sound of a gun firing was enough to make him whimper and decide to not come out.

[evilhandissue]

With the food away, he started the coffee maker and started to brew a pot of the strong stuff.

"You going to hide under there all morning, or you coming to get breakfast? I'm not your damn maid."

Just your damn babysitter...

[smart_alec494]

"Maybe?" He shifts, and ends up using Jinx as a pillow. "Might be sick." Like he was weighing the options. Last time he's thrown up he'd passed out after on the bathroom floor. He should eat though. He was loosing weight again.

[evilhandissue]

"Of course you're sick. You're going through a trauma, and that does havoc on your stress levels, which in turn makes you feel as if you're sick. It's natural, and only when you relax will it start to go away."

Four large Belgian waffles were made. And enough bacon for a small army. Lindsey figured that Dean would eventually wake up and want food too, so he would leave it for him. Though the man could heat it up himself.

Standing in the doorway, Lindsey saw the pile of boy, dog and blanket and shook his head. He then gave a sharp whistle and slapped his leg. "Here dog. Come and get it."

There was bacon for Jinx too. Lindsey liked dogs. More than cats.

[smart_alec494]

He cringed at the whistle. "Don't *do* that." It's said with a lip curling snarl, as the noise spiked through his head. "And his name is Jinx." This indignant. Maybe left over from being a number for most of his life. "Got him tags 'n' everything." But he lets go of the puppy's fur. "Go on."

Jinx licks his face before slipping out from underneith him. Sure enough the dog has a black leather collar and tags though they are rubber edged so they don't rattle. He sits and looks up at Lindsey clearly waiting.

[evilhandissue]

"See, getting upset about calling the dog by his species and not his name is just stress you don't need." Lindsey grabbed a strip of bacon, tossing it to Jinx before going into the kitchen again. "No one was hurt, and he got his bacon."

[smart_alec494]

"Names make you special." He rubs a thumb into his temple hard. "This isn't like stress this is like. . .head injury." He takes a deep slow breath. "Stress is seizures. Actual puking is head injury." Not that he didn't *feel* sick when terrified, and not to say that seizing wasn't a real danger with what was going on.

[evilhandissue]

"If they made you special, then why does everyone have one?" Lindsey leaned into the doorway with a raised eyebrow.

"And I'm not going into the illnesses that vomiting is associated with. Mainly because I'm not a doctor, and I'm trying to eat here."

[smart_alec494]

"Because they're special to someone. And not everyone does have a name."

"God, feel like I've been drop kicked by a freight train." He rolled onto his back, which was an imporvment.

[evilhandissue]

"People are given names as designations within society. It's an identifier, nothing more. It's not even chosen by the person, but their parents, or a government depending on how you're born."

"You'll be better once you have some food in you." Lindsey was persistent, and didn't like having to repeat himself. He tossed another strip of bacon at Jinx. "And if you're not quick JINX might end up eating it all."

[smart_alec494]

"You saying you'd be fine being a number?" He figures either Lindsey might be right or at least he'd stop harping if Alec ate. So he rolled into a sitting position which he clearly should have done at a *much* slower pace because he felt like he was going to pass out. He wobbled with an involuntary moan.

Jinx snapped up the bacon but headed back over to Alec, possably afraid he'd have to haul Alec back up onto the sofa by his shirt.

[evilhandissue]

"Kid, at the end of the day, that's all we really are."

There was a plate ready for Alec, and Lindsey sat down at the kitchen table, coffee in hand which he sipped as he read the morning paper.