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

[righteously]

You know that thing where... demons or wizards or whatever will like... flick their hand and fling us up against a wall all the god damn time?

( You know. The thing. That thing. It happens like twice a week, super annoying, very painful?

He shrugs a shoulder. )

They make a good airbag.

[outwear]

We do get tossed around a lot.

[ So at least there's that. Although this also gives Sam a pretty good idea of how Dean is thinking of those wings. If he's going to treat them less like a part of himself than the rest, then who's to say there isn't some kind of psychosomatic reaction driving the molting? There are too many variables, and having just picked up the trail on this one, Sam suspects he'll need a little time to think it all over.

He rubs at his forehead, scrubbing at the concern he feels gathering on his brow. Dean doesn't need to see that, and Sam's not entirely sure it's necessary or helpful to allow himself to worry like that at the moment. ]

Hey, look at it this way: Now you never have to worry about telling a tasteless joke about angels. You could shit on someone's head like a bird if that was something you wanted to do. You're definitely saving money on horse rental. And now I can legitimately call you Big Bird...

[ Sam will absolutely continue on with this list of pros if allowed, just you watch. ]

[righteously]

( Sam's got him in the first half. There's a little raise of one eyebrow, a little conceding tip of his head at shit on someone's head like a bird, a fantastically appealing mental image frankly. That horse rental part is where things start to waver, and then they go absolutely out the goddamn window at last.

He points at Sam with utmost sincerity, and solemnly declares: )

I will kill you.

[outwear]

[ He can't help himself, a fraction of a smile finding its way into his expression. A couple years ago he could see them wrestling around noogies and kicking each other in the back of the knees over something like this, but more and more Sam thinks they're either too old or too jaded or maybe they've just been through it all a million times before.

(When aren't they navigating the strange and the uncomfortable? When aren't they questioning who they are now and who they might one day become?)

Sam pushes his hands through his hair, an act meant to reset his compass in this moment. ]

I... know it's hard to be on the receiving end of everyone's concern, but we're here to help. If you'll let us.

[ His hands go up, expecting the need to quell Dean's probable protest. ]

When you're ready.