ᴀʟʟ I ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟɪғᴇ's ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ (open.)

[righteously]

Who: Dean Winchester & Others.
When: Post-Event.
Where: Cadens, the Horizon, Nocwich.
What: A catch-all of open & closed starters.
Warnings: A little grief, a little alcoholism, probably canon-typical violence and suicidal ideation. Mentions of fruit turbo-hell.

I ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ sᴇᴇᴋɪɴɢ sᴀʟᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
Nᴏᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴡᴏʀʀɪᴇᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴅᴀᴍɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
I ɢᴏᴛ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀs sᴜᴄʜ I ᴀɪɴ'ᴛ ᴇᴀsɪʟʏ ʟᴇᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ
Aʟʟ I ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴅᴏ ɪs ʙᴇ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ
ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ.

Comments

[righteously]

Hard to be altogether too worried about it when it can't come back to bite him. He's dead. Whatever happens from this point on is some other hunter's problem, whether Dean likes it or not. He's embracing the ultimate retirement.

—except any single person who knows him could tell him how full of shit he was. Not a word of that's true. If anybody were inclined to claw their way back from beyond the grave to continue doing work he hates, it's Dean Winchester. And there's plenty of opportunity for it to come bite him here, in his replacement afterlife. He's trying not to think about any of that too hard.

After a heavy weight of silence, he finally pushes off the edge of the bar. One slow, deliberate step erases the distance between them again, so he can settle a careful hand on Michael's shoulder.

"I'm sorry your dad disappointed you. I'm sorry he was an asshole, and I'm sorry you had to lose him the way you did. Nobody should have to live through that. Not even you. You deserved better."

For all their differences, for all the things he dislikes about Michael, for all the times they were on opposite ends of an issue... all of that, at least, he can say honestly.

He has nothing else to add on the subject of Chuck — it's better that the guy become a footnote. He thinks it's more fitting to make that douchebag as irrelevant as possible.

[familysucks]

They're in the same boat if Chuck ever makes an appearance in Abraxas. Michael's plan is to count on that first week of powerlessness to make no exceptions and commit patricide. It's that or suffer his Father's wrath a second time.

After the holy oil trap and the handcuffs, one might expect him to be wary of a Winchester's approach. An archangel is an archangel is an archangel, though: arrogant to the end. He and Dean have established (an admittedly fragile) trust in spite of their past conflicts, however, and this is the Horizon. What could he possibly do to him here?

While he's not expecting harm, somehow he expects what Dean actually does even less. There's a blink, wings flaring behind him—unseen, but maybe not unheard. Sympathy? He didn't realize he'd made that much of an impression. Dean's not good at apologies, and he figured the end of their close collaboration would cut him off from that deep well of feeling the man has for those close to him. Apparently not.

Still, he's a bit young to be talking to him like that. Michael's pride wars with the side that's charmed by the act. Like a dog bringing its favourite toy over to cheer someone up.

The anger always wins. There's a flash of blue in his eyes. If Dean were one of his younger siblings, he'd have a broken arm. He isn't, though. They're archangel and vessel, even face to face instead of sharing a body, so he's under the same immunity as Michael himself is. Michael's rage finds no target before him.

This bar could really use a second floor for him to march up to.

"I don't need sympathy. He created the universe, and He was a monster. Of course it would be filled with loss, disappointment, the deserving rarely getting their due. What matters is that it's over, isn't it?"

Not just Chuck's reign, but Michael's part in the story. He looks at Dean, gaze hard. He thinks the man will understand him. He remembers that week they spent joined, the need to fight always shadowed by the desire for rest. And that was after only eight hundred years. How heavy would that anchor feel if he'd lived as long as Michael has?

[righteously]

He gets it. This whole reaction, this jump to anger because it's easier, he gets it. He's been there, he's been that guy, he is that guy more often than he likes to admit. He isn't intimidated by it, he doesn't even seem particularly affronted or ruffled. He's just... steady, that same older brother steadiness he developed for Sam, the same steadiness he employs for Steve now, or for Clarisse, or for when Cas is taking his turn having a crisis, or when John got pissed.

Weathering the brunt of someone else's emotional reaction over something unrelated to himself is old hat. He doesn't mind it.

"Yeah," he returns, a mild but not insincere agreement. "It's over."

That matters. It's not all that matters, but sure.

He doesn't know Michael well enough to push any further than this, they don't have the necessary rapport for him to try any harder now to knock down walls looking for something more honest. He'll leave it be.

But they both know Dean knows there's more here, and Michael's anger doesn't do a damn thing to discourage the notion.

[familysucks]

He'd break the other arm if he knew Dean thought he was playing older brother here. Michael is eldest between them, was older brother to thousands before Dean's species was even put on Earth. That they are equals here is not quite the thought that runs through Michael's mind, still arrogant archangel at heart, but they are closer to it than most other humans would be with him.

"Good." It's fine if Dean sees that there's more going on beneath Michael's insistence that everything is over and neatly packed away. He likes it when people don't argue with him. "I think we both have the answer to the question I originally came here with."

They're not exactly good, but they're better than they were. They've found solid ground to build on. What they're going to build is a thought for another day.

Michael turns his head just a touch, looks down at Dean's hand on his shoulder, then back at Dean. If there's nothing else, he'll be on his way just as soon as the man decides to move his hand. He could shrug it off, sure, but once again he'll allow his former vessel to make his own decisions.