Will Make It To The Door Eventually
Characters: Dean Winchester, OPEN
Rating: PG
Time Period: Modern
Location: Where the helicopter lands.
Relative Date: Arrived Sometime After Sam Winchester
Status: Open, WIP
Dean stepped off the plane with a vaguely rude gesture in the direction of the pilot, more to make himself feel better than anything. He refused to let his knees shake as he walked away and the helicopter took off again, blowing dust and loose grass in all directions. It was not until it was far in the sky (and thus the pilot could not see him embarrassing himself) that he let himself breathe and half-tumbled to the ground. He sat there for a long moment, trying to compose himself. He caught himself flushing, disgusted with himself for his ridiculous weakness. He could face demons and ghosts without getting as freaked out as he did from a simple helicopter ride. He forced himself to stand up, brushing his jeans off self-consciously. He checked his weapons impulsively, and finding them secured, began his way towards the castle.
He realized when he was halfway there that he had been clenching his ticket in his hand; when he opened his fist, the fine paper was mangled like a discarded newspaper. The ink had not smudged, leaving the message still clear - Want to know where Sammy went? Follow us.
where Sammy went. Like he had gone out of his own free will. Hell, maybe he had; Dean was not so sure how much he really knew about his brother, anymore. Those four months had really messed something up in the kid's brain, or maybe it was just that godawful demon.
But who was 'us?' And what did they want with his brother? Another demon faction wanting to harness the ever so creepy powers of the Sam? But why would they invite him along?
He wondered if this could be Castiel's fault, but it did not seem like something the angel would do; he was a jackass, sure, but he was also blissfully blunt.
Shrugging off his thoughts, he focused on the real task at hand - finding Sammy and not dying while doing it. He put the ticket away and instead wrapped his fingers around his gun hilt, keeping one side to the wall as soon as he reached it and taking the long way around to the doors.
Rating: PG
Time Period: Modern
Location: Where the helicopter lands.
Relative Date: Arrived Sometime After Sam Winchester
Status: Open, WIP
Dean stepped off the plane with a vaguely rude gesture in the direction of the pilot, more to make himself feel better than anything. He refused to let his knees shake as he walked away and the helicopter took off again, blowing dust and loose grass in all directions. It was not until it was far in the sky (and thus the pilot could not see him embarrassing himself) that he let himself breathe and half-tumbled to the ground. He sat there for a long moment, trying to compose himself. He caught himself flushing, disgusted with himself for his ridiculous weakness. He could face demons and ghosts without getting as freaked out as he did from a simple helicopter ride. He forced himself to stand up, brushing his jeans off self-consciously. He checked his weapons impulsively, and finding them secured, began his way towards the castle.
He realized when he was halfway there that he had been clenching his ticket in his hand; when he opened his fist, the fine paper was mangled like a discarded newspaper. The ink had not smudged, leaving the message still clear - Want to know where Sammy went? Follow us.
where Sammy went. Like he had gone out of his own free will. Hell, maybe he had; Dean was not so sure how much he really knew about his brother, anymore. Those four months had really messed something up in the kid's brain, or maybe it was just that godawful demon.
But who was 'us?' And what did they want with his brother? Another demon faction wanting to harness the ever so creepy powers of the Sam? But why would they invite him along?
He wondered if this could be Castiel's fault, but it did not seem like something the angel would do; he was a jackass, sure, but he was also blissfully blunt.
Shrugging off his thoughts, he focused on the real task at hand - finding Sammy and not dying while doing it. He put the ticket away and instead wrapped his fingers around his gun hilt, keeping one side to the wall as soon as he reached it and taking the long way around to the doors.