[Accidental Video] || hunt 13 ||

[100deaths_a_day]

[Willow wasn't the only one that the surveillance bots caught on camera. the feed from them shows Dean and Cas making their exit from the cafeteria, Cas holding Dean's knife, and Dean pulling the m1911 out, before he realises it's almost empty

Comments

[to_rebel]

[To say that Castiel was annoyed would be an understatement. It was only moments after the arrow sank into Dean's shoulder that Castiel saw it and, while Dean fired at the robot, Castiel raised his hand toward it.

It came apart at the seams.

He turned his attention back to Dean, eyes narrowed at the arrow, and decided he couldn't do a thing about it now. Instead, he put himself at Dean's back...

... And found himself face to face with a robot.

He blinked and lashed out, the heel of his hand driving into the 'bot and forcing it back. Castiel followed it, knife finding a seam and sinking into the robot. He wasn't sure that actually did any good, beyond shoving the thing away from him, but he'd take it. His attention was drawn to another robot, further away, and he raised his hand toward that one as it let loose its arrows.

He was not -- absolutely not -- being vindictive about tearing it apart.]

[100deaths_a_day]

[to_rebel]

[Really, Dean? Castiel's idea of first aid is just let it bleed until it eventually stops and he's not impressed by this... idiocy. He turns to Dean -- and that's a mistake, as an arrow grazes the back of his knee.

He goes to one knee, half-turning with the movement and lets the knife fly. Unfortunately, it doesn't do much good against metal robots, but it apparently works for a distraction as several arrows track the knife's movement rather than his.

He pushes to his feet and places himself in front of Dean. You're insane, Dean. Absolutely insane.

And he's just going to tear apart a few more robots -- he's beginning to ache, though. His drinking binge didn't let him recover so nicely from his arrival.]

[100deaths_a_day]

[Dean takes off his tattered tee, and wrps it around the wound, the makeshift bandage making it throb.

But, he'd had worse. Granted, he'd been re-healed after that, but he'd had worse.

His left hand felt weary (must be the blood loss), but he kept a firm grip on the gun, and even managed to shoot a few more, before his left arm gave up trying to compensate. He sighed, and tucked the gun away, it now renderering it usless, pretty much. his right arm...

He tried to move his finger. Get any response... and nothing. Even the pain had died.]

...shitshitshit!