thirty-one beers

[shutupsammy]

[ In his dream, they do nothing. It isn't the same as reality, but Dean's subconscious has never been particularly forgiving of himself, not in the slightest, and Dean's subconscious believes he might have deserved this a little, the pain and the loneliness and the dying and going to Hell

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[71_chevelle]

Bobby stumbles onto the scene and feels his heart wrenched away. He can't see this, not again, seeing Dean's mangled body once was enough. Seeing Sam's lifeless form sink to the ground once was enough.

Dammit, they were young. Too young for all this. He should have done something more, been better, been stronger.

But in the end all he does is hang his head.

[ooc: placeholding, need to eat and do some laundry.]

[shutupsammy]

It takes Dean a time before he notices another gaze in the room, not one staring at him with mocking inaction. Something heavier. He's not sure why he can feel it-- maybe it's a dream thing --but he can, and he swivels his head away from his own corpse to stare at Bobby. A second Bobby.

He's had this dream hundreds of times, but there has never been a second Bobby. When he speaks, his voice is hoarse, like he hasn't used it in years.

"Hey, Bobby. You look like hell. Who died?"

[ooc: ♥]

[71_chevelle]

"Pretty sure you did, son."

Bobby turns and looks at this Dean, the one still standing. But he smiles to acknowledge the attempt at a joke.

[shutupsammy]

"I know," Dean says, deflating, but there's a wisp of a smile on his lips this time. He steps closer to the older man, stopping a few feet away and frowning at the puff of white air coming from Bobby's mouth.

"This is really awkward. But don't-- look, Bobby, it's fine. It's just a nightmare. Everyone has them. Mine are just really creative nightmares."

[monsterbaiting]

Jo has no idea how she got here but she has a pretty good notion of how she's getting out. It starts at the door, with the basics. Her back is turned to the scene behind her and it's staying that way. She rattles the handle with all the strength she can muster, more than she knew she had because fear is an excellent motivator. That's what this is, isn't it? Fear. She's afraid of facing it, afraid of seeing it play out again. She watches a blurred and distorted image of a grotesque scene play out in front of her and the tears don't succeed in shielding her eyes from it. In the end she sinks, back to the wall, defeated. She spent her life arguing that she was ready, that she could handle it. She was wrong.

[shutupsammy]

When Dean notices the blonde form huddled by the door, his thoughts first run to Ruby. Anyone but Jo. But Jo is who he eventually recognizes it is, the shape of her shoulders and the waves in her hair. The shoulders, usually thrown back with a goat-like confidence, are slumped, and he resists the urge to immediately reach out to place a hand on one of them to see if she's trembling.

He clears his throat and speaks, wondering if she'll hear him.

"Jesus, Jo. Why are you here? You shouldn't have to see this mess."

[monsterbaiting]

She agrees but can't bring herself to vocalize it. It's surprising that she can remain adamant in the worst of situations but her hardheadedness routinely wins her over. It's not something she's proud of. Nor is her behavior. She's been reduced to a sobbing child, hiding from the very thing she swore time and time again she could handle. She's trying to run away when she should be trying to help Dean.

"I can't get out." It comes out as a hoarse whisper.

[shutupsammy]

His form flickers for only a second in uncertainty before he bridges the gap between himself and Jo, someone who, despite their problems and disagreements, he considered a friend. And he doesn't have many of those. Bending over, he reaches out slightly to touch her hair, but stops at the last moment, pulling back and folding his arms across his chest.

"I know. I'm sorry. It's because I'm not supposed to be able to get out. It's a dream, Jo, and I'm fucking sorry you're in it."

we'll gather around the fire and i don't need the choir

[ordered]

They were nightmares that were all too familiar. Reality clouded by fantasy clouded by reality. Where Dean's memories of the past were brought to the forefront yet again. And while a part of Castiel wished that there was a way he could help the man, he knew it wasn't his place to interfere. From memories of Heaven through to a representation of Hell. But this was one worse. This wasn't something he could shrug off the next day and pretend didn't happen. This was something that was being made public to all those who chose to look.

That was the part he knew would be taken worse.

And yet, despite better knowledge, Castiel hadn't kept from entering too. Though his reasons differed from what they should have been. It wasn't for information, nor to 'wake him up'. Castiel's reason for following after Dean was concern. Whether it was Winchester or Smith, Dean was his charge, and from his point of view, his friend. He refused to stand back and just watch, again. Even if there was a rule being broken in the process.

we'll gather around the fire and i don't need the choir

[shutupsammy]

The first thing that Dean regards the second Castiel with, the real one, not the figment of his subconscious standing next to the taller angel off to the side, is guilt. The guilt only lasts a moment before it fades into irritation. It's an immature emotion, like a child being angry because he got caught in a lie. Dean's emotions are that undeveloped in some cases, though, and with reasonable cause. He hasn't done a lot of appropriate growing up in his life. Still. It doesn't fit the situation, either, not when Dean hasn't done anything to cause the dreams that he's been having

we'll gather around the fire and i don't need the choir

[ordered]

It's only around this one human that Castiel ever feels comfortable enough to speak freely. Even his own brothers don't provide the same outlet that Dean can. And even if the man may not believe him if he ever said it, this is yet another reason as to why the angel considers Dean to be important. On a personal level as well as professional.

"Neither." Though this in itself is a lie. "Certain...memories of mine have been seen though." He has been affected. He might well still be affected at this very moment. But despite all that had happened with Ruby, he can't fully consider his own affliction to be purely a curse. He had gained answers he wouldn't have found in any other way. And if this meeting can be used in a similar fashion, then he will do what he has to. But not for him, this time.

"This isn't a place either of us should be." Dean's nightmare is one that he deserves to be free from, after all else that has happened.

we'll gather around the fire and i don't need the choir

[shutupsammy]

"Oh," Dean says, voice without much emotion and obvious. It's more of a grunt of acknowledgment than anything, because Dean can't even fathom-- doesn't want to consider --Castiel being able to have dreams, or to sleep in order to. He moves closer, tilting his head to look down into Castiel's face for a second before pulling his own gaze away. He never is able to hold a look like that with Castiel.

Eyes darting around the room, they linger on the dream-Uriel's face and then on Dean's own bloody, open-eyed corpse face.

"This isn't a place I want to be, in case you haven't noticed. I'll get some drugs and make them stop. Some kind of anti-psychotics or something. Probably not an ethical, doctor-recommended use, but what the hell."