Hᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴀ ᴛʜᴏᴜsᴀɴᴅ ᴍɪʟᴇs ᴀᴡᴀʏ ( ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ )

[righteously]

Who: Dean Winchester & Co.
When: January
Where: Cadens; Horizon; Nocwich
What: Catch-all for January
Warnings: mark of cain shenanigans, violence, alcohol, self-loathing

I ᴡᴏᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜɪs ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ
ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴄᴏɢɴɪᴢᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ

Comments

ᴘᴏsᴛ-ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ

[righteously]

The group talks. A few illuminating little factoids surface, not very many of them pleasant — one of them particularly perturbing. It calls back to the thought running through Dean's head a few weeks back on their unsuccessful hunt, to something he's been marinating on ever since with increasing intensity.

"Hold up," he says as their gathering disperses, reaching out to grasp Geralt by the arm. "Can I talk to you in private?"

He nods his head off toward the halls, and leads them to a place more private than private — his bedroom, where he gently shuts the door and settles his hips atop the surface of his writing desk.

"What you said back there, about Lucifer thinking I can't die..." He starts slowly, his eyes fixed on some thoughtful nowhere-place on the wall — until he drags them up to level Geralt with a serious look. "I need you to do something for me."

He's been asking a lot of Geralt recently. He's been asking a lot of Geralt since they met, it feels like. Favor after favor, racking up debt. Normally he'd feel reluctant about adding to the pile. In a way, he does. But this... it's the most important thing he's asked for yet.

"I need you to promise me that if I do go off the rails, if we can't find a way to get this thing off... If it starts turning me into something-" Something he doesn't want to be. A monster. A danger to the people he cares about — they care about. "You figure it out. You find a way to put me down, because Sam and Cas won't. Push comes to shove, I can't count on them to do what needs to be done. Chop my head off, burn the body, shove me in an iron box and chuck me into the friggin' ocean, whatever it takes."

[gynvael]

Dean's footsteps echo in the corridor. Geralt waits for the man to catch up, follows him into his room.

He sits on the bed. In a sense, he can feel what's coming. That is, perhaps, the strange irony. How both Lucifer and Dean have pulled him aside because he's the one person close to Dean who will not hesitate. But where Lucifer misread what he will and will not do, Dean understands him far better.

"I know," he says simply. He will. It's a promise, but it isn't. This goes beyond what he'll do for Dean. He'll do it because if it needs to be done, then it needs to be done.

He wants to protect Dean. He'd like nothing more than for all of this to resolve without a drop of blood shed. But there are others he needs to protect, as well. Perhaps that's what separates him from Sam or Castiel. He doesn't know, mostly doesn't think about it. Their relationship with Dean is complex, rooted in a history he will never fully grasp. Doesn't want to, either. His own are tangled as it is.

He pauses. "Lucifer's understanding of the curse comes from his centuries upon your world. We're realms away. We don't know what holds true here."

[righteously]

"You're right," he agrees mildly. This isn't Earth. There's no Cain here. For all they know, this might not even be the real Mark — though the fact that Lucifer could sense it kind of gives that some credibility. Still, things may not work the same. The bottom line is, they have absolutely no goddamn way to know. No way to predict how this is gonna go, no way to prophesize the outcome. The only thing they have to operate off of is precedent, and that precedent don't look so good. "But unless something new crops up, safest bet's to operate under the worst case scenario."

And that worst case scenario is he falters. The mark takes him over, he becomes a killing machine that needs to be buried, and damn near impossible to kill. The thing is, unkillable and unstoppable aren't the same thing. If anybody can figure out how to get the job done, it's Geralt.

It feels important to point something else out.

"If it comes down to that... they're gonna try to stop you. Jo too, maybe. It might mean some burned bridges, and if that's the case, I'm sorry for the headache you're gonna have to deal with after, but..." There's a pause. He chews his tongue. Casts his eyes downward, searching for words that don't sound as selfish as they feel. "My nightmare scenario here... is dragging this out for so long I do something I can't take back, just because they don't wanna let me go. Holding out hope for a solution that might not even exist here, while I'm cutting down the people I love. When- if people think about me later on down the line, I don't want their first memory to be... whatever this thing turns me into. Whatever it makes me do. My job is to protect my family. It always has been. And if it gets to the point that I can't do that... If I can't protect them from myself?"

He lifts his gaze again to meet Geralt's eye, to impress the point.

"Then it's time. That's what I want."

[gynvael]

Burnt bridges are the least of his worries. He's not especially worried about people stopping him, either. What comes will come. At the moment, he's more concerned about Dean taking on the weight of his own death. It doesn't surprise him, now that he's come to know Dean, but—

It isn't what he wants Dean to walk away believing. That he's somehow made things worse by wanting reassurance he'll find some semblance of peace. 

Geralt leans forward, elbows on his thighs.

"Dean." His tone is gentle, but no less blunt. "We've known each other some time. I would bleed for you. But understand, I will always protect my daughter first. If you fall by my hand, she will be the reason. So if you're losing sleep over asking too much of me, know that I would arrive at this decision with or without your blessing."

He pauses, expression softening.

"You're not a sacrifice to be made, Dean. And you are not a burden to be carried. Witchers mourn our losses. Then we move on."

[righteously]

It's a relief, frankly, this perspective Geralt's got. Doing this for Ciri rather than Dean. It feels less like he's asking for yet another favor, and more like he's preemptively granting consent — not that Geralt really needs it.

He's killed friends before. He's put down allies before. It's a slightly easier pill to swallow when they understand, when they're on board with the plan. He's not sure Geralt would lose much sleep over putting him down when the time came, but on the off-chance, at least it's on record.

You're not a sacrifice to be made. You are not a burden to be carried.

The smile he offers up is small and hollow. A little sad, a lot tired.

"Thank you. I know this whole thing hasn't exactly been a party, and it's gonna get worse before it gets better, so... I just want you to know I appreciate it. You sticking around... means a lot."

Here's hoping he lives long enough to make up for it some day.

[gynvael]

For a moment, he's quiet. Since Dean came to him saying, It's bad—or before, even—he's been thinking about what's ahead. This is not a conversation he ever wanted to have, but he'd be lying if he said he'd not been expecting it.

He doesn't need permission, no. It still means something to have it. The difference, too, lies in what they both are. He would not be so accepting of what needs to be done were it someone else this close to him. But Dean, like him, has been forged in the kind of life that was never meant to end gently.

There's an understanding your time comes. One way or another. And he knows, without asking, that Dean was never more aware of that than when he made the choice to take the mark.

Though with Dean, he's hoped for a later rather than a sooner. He supposes some part of him still does.

"You're not dead yet." He rises from the bed. "Thank me later."