have you talked to the man upstairs?

[venatical]

Who: Dean and whoever lives in House 16 who wants to put up with his crap. And Kenzi! What a brosis.
When: Day 70
Where: House 16
What: Dean's slowly going stir crazy, probably much to Gabriel and Raphael's delight. His housemates have to deal with him.
Warnings: Language!

It's been a straight-up week since Dean got himself in deep shit with Raphael and Gabriel. A week. That's seven days that he's been living out of his room, afraid that he's going to get angel-shanked when he goes to use the bathroom. He's getting really sick of it, and he's really tempted to think that Raphael and Gabriel's plan is just to make Dean stay in his house for all time. But he keeps reminding himself of angels and their patience and that's probably just what they want him to think and as soon as he decides fuck this shit, that's when they'll swoop. Maybe. Or maybe not.

Ugh, fuck this shit. Only not really. He stops tossing the ball against the wall and flumps back on his bed again, bored and antsy. He glances over at his sigils, checking them like he has to do every few hours because...

Oh, look. They've been fucked with again. His sigh is more of a growl as he gets up and stomps across the room to fix it again. This crap's why he thinks their plan is mostly mental torture, slowly driving him nuts. Once it's fixed, he sits back on his bed heavily and scowls at the floor.

Then he stomps on it and calls out.

"Hey! Someone wanna bring me something to eat? Freaking starving up here." No, mostly he's bored.

Comments

[foundacause]

Four days since her run in with Crowley and Meg's injuries are healing quite nicely. There's still a rather big bruise on her ego though as getting so truly and thoroughly whipped by Crowley in the first place. Good job she has her own personal guardian angel on tap.

At Dean's annoying stomping she makes her way to his room, opens the door and throws a packet of potato chips at his head none too gently. What is he? Six. Poor potato chips, what did they ever do to her? Still, the bag is mostly air, it'll cushion the blow. "Don't say I never do anything for you."

[venatical]

He catches the chips, but it's a little clumsy because they're hard to hold, but he still catches them because they're chips and he's Dean and there was a time when he and Sam only threw things at one another instead of handing them. Or maybe that was just Dean. The weirdest thing about being shut up in this house is that each of the other occupants makes him a little uncomfortable -- or in the case of Original Flavor Cas, a lot uncomfortable. Maybe he and Meg can pretend like nothing happened and carry on never speaking of it again.

"Yeah, thanks a million." He opens the bag and starts to eat, though, and then looks back up at her. He's mindnumbingly bored, and pretty lonely, actually.

"Hey, you got anything I haven't read yet?" He'll accept talking about his romance novel obsession.

[foundacause]

"Unless you've taken up reading gossip magazines then I'm afraid you're screwed. Really, Dean. Do you need '25 tips to wow your man in bed', or 'the summer's latest must-have fashion and accessories'? You don't have the hips to carry most of them off - the clothes, not the sex tips."

She's more than happy to pretend their little encounter never took place. Sure, he's an amazing lay, but it was so messed up and she kind of feels guilty - and then she loathes herself for feeling guilty because hello, demon. It's practically in the job description.

"How about I tell you a little story instead?" She doesn't give him a chance to protest it before she moves further into his room, and if there are any hidden devil's traps then so help her she will skin him alive.

"Once upon a time there was a little unicorn. The horses in his flock mocked him and used him for their own purpose. They wished to cut off his horn and make him like them. But he wasn't like them, so one day he ran away and found a squirrel and a moose. It was an unusual friendship, but it worked." Can you see where this story is going Dean?

[venatical]

What, she doesn't want to be trapped in here with him? ...okay, he doesn't want that either. No devil's traps this time, if only because he can't leave his room either. Her whole magazine spiel gets the flattest look of all time as he petulantly eats his chips, but he's paying attention again once she steps into his room. Once she starts the story, he figures he has every right to feel as on guard as he does right now.

He sits up a little straighter, eyes narrowed, trying to figure out where she's going with this, but he's afraid to find out. The unicorn is Cas, right? Is she going to make him feel like shit for what happened when he was a trickster? Moot point because he already does, and what's he supposed to do about it?

"Okay, Lisa Frank. Go on."

[foundacause]

Dean, Dean, Dean. Just wait and see. Don't go skipping to the end of the story - it takes all the fun out of life. She sits herself on his bed with no invitation, ignoring the protests of her still healing body.

Don't be so suspicious. It's only a story. Or is it?

"The little unicorn loved his new friends. He frolicked with them in the fields of tall grass. They did everything together. But in the deep, dark forest things were stirring."

She leans over to steal a couple of his chips. What? Story time is hard work! "The horses and the forest folk wanted the fields of tall grass for themselves. And they wanted the moose and the squirrel to help them. The little unicorn was scared. He didn't want his special friends to get hurt. He didn't want the forest folk and the horses to fight."

Okay, story time is really hard. "The fighting happened. It was inevitable. The moose was lost in the forest. The squirrel found another squirrel to share his nuts with and the little unicorn went back with all the horses and the ponies. But the horses and the ponies weren't playing nice. The little unicorn didn't like it. He wanted to ask his friend squirrel to help, but he couldn't. And so, along came a snake who offered to help the unicorn."

[venatical]

Oh my God, seriously? He sighs heavily and rolls his eyes as she keeps going because it's not like Dean's unaware of his own freaking life and Cas's place in it. What really sets him off though is the idea that Dean's the one that left Cas alone. That Dean left Cas and so Cas had no one to turn to.

"That unicorn," Jesus Christ is he really saying that, "could've come to me at any point." Let's not talk about how Dean prayed to him, a lot at first and then not as much over time when it seemed like Cas wasn't coming around. But even then, sometimes he'd look up and ask if he was there.

"Where're you going with this? Other than Disney Land?"

[foundacause]

"You wanted a story. I'm telling you a story." Shut up, Dean, stop ruining it. Any way, whoever said Dean is even in the story. It's about a unicorn and a squirrel. So hush!

"And sorry, but no Disney Land." Another few chips are stolen. "Any way. The unicorn accepted the snake's offer to help his rainbow grow brighter, stronger and more sparkly than ever. But the little unicorn soon realised that working with the snake wasn't good. But he was lost and he didn't know what to do. He couldn't go back to the other horses, and he couldn't go to his squirrel. He found the moose but the moose's antlers were missing and he didn't know how to fix it."

Hey, come on. He has to admit she's doing pretty well considering she doesn't have all the facts. "The little squirrel was worried about the moose and so he went to visit the wise old owl for help. The wise old owl didn't like to be bothered. No one usually asked him for help. They were scared of him. But the wise old owl agreed to help the squirrel find the moose's antlers and fix them. They were a bit wonky and very delicate. The moose had to be very, very careful."

She should start her own range of children's books. The demon author - writer of best selling classics such as 'The Unicorn and the Squirrel' and 'The Little Unicorn loses his horn'.

[happytobleed]

Castiel rolls his eyes when he hears Dean yell. He knows that Dean's going stir crazy, but that doesn't change the fact that he's being ridiculous about it.

Once he rummages through the kitchen, Castiel knocks on Dean's door, sandwich in hand. He's largely been avoiding spending too much time with Dean and Meg's injuries have been a welcome excuse, even if he does wish he could heal them himself.

The sandwich isn't as nice as the last one he brought Dean, but he hopes Dean will appreciate it, anyway.

To the outsider, it might seem that Castiel has actually learned how to knock before entering, but that isn't th case at all. He simply can't enter the room with the wards in place.

[venatical]

He's grumpy about being stuck here and grumpy that there are angels after him and he's still pretty supremely upset about what happened while he was a trickster -- what he did while he was a trickster. He's moved on, or pretended to move on, or made himself think he moved on, but sitting up here, he's had plenty of time to repress and stew, and it's not helping the impulse to act out.

When he hears the knock, he can guess pretty easily who's waiting on the other side. It's either Cas or... Cas, but he's figuring it's the one who's still got his mojo. He gets up and opens up the door, even if he's not exactly... The thing is, every time he looks Cas in the eye, he remembers one of the horrible things he did to him, and he still doesn't know how to feel about Cas moving on from it. Did he move on like Dean moved on (that is, not at all and he's just pretending)?

"Thanks." He nods a tight greeting and takes the sandwich, then hesitates before he opens the door a little wider. It's hard to talk to Cas, but he's also lonely. And he also misses him.

"You want to come in? They'll break one of the sigils in an hour anyway."

[happytobleed]

"Yes." The answer comes without hesitation.

He's not even doing a very good job of pretending to be over what happened, but that doesn't make him care about either of them any less. It just makes it hurt, but Castiel is a soldier. He's always been a soldier and that means working through the pain sometimes, even if the pain is emotional.

"You should know that there is one less person to worry about." He's held off on telling Dean, mostly because he's kept words brief with him. After that emotionally loaded conversation the other day, Castiel has mostly been keeping to himself and licking his wounds in private.

[venatical]

He leans over to scratch a mark through one of them, enough to let Cas through, and then he steps back to give him room. He goes back to his bed, though his feigned-leisurely collapse back onto it is complicated by that news, and he gives Cas an uncertain look.

"What happened? Something happen to Raphael or Gabriel?"

This is good, though. This is something to talk about other than every other thing they should be talking about.

[happytobleed]

Castiel moves into the room, feeling the sigils push against him, even as he's allowed through. He hesitates for a moment before sitting stiffly at the foot of Dean's bed, turning to face Dean.

"Crowley is dead." He meets Dean's eyes. "I killed him."

There's no real guilt. Castiel doesn't like ending lives and Meg has made him reevaluate his stance on demons, but Crowley's done so much to hurt the people he cares about. Crowley tried to turn him against Dean. Attacking Meg had been the last straw.

[venatical]

Dean lifts his eyebrows and blinks a few times.

"I'm sorry; you -- you killed Crowley." He narrows his eyes, making sure he's understanding this right. Cas just up and killed Crowley. It's not like Dean's sad or anything, but he was expecting this moment to be more intense. Also, he was expecting that he'd be the fuck there.

"How? When?"

[onteamdyson]

Hey, Dean. Hey. Dean, hey, there's something at your window. Hey, Dean. Dean, you should probably check that out. Dean, seriously, it could be something bad! It could be angels trying to get revenge! It could be some kind of horrible monster! It could be--

... A tiny, dark haired, goth chick clinging to the windowsill with a paperbag hanging from her mouth while she taps on the glass. Open up, Winchester.

[venatical]

He is worried for what's at his window, but he's not sure what it could be. Raphael and Gabriel sending him some kind of weird creature to fight? That seems stupid, but he's still on guard as he sits up and watches proceedings at the window while he mentally recalls everywhere he has a weapon handy.

Oh, but it's Kenzi. He relaxes somewhat -- only somewhat; Kenzi is Gabriel's friend -- and he comes over to the window to stand in front of it and watch her dangle there as he puts his hands on his hips.

"What's the secret password?" he calls through the glass.

[onteamdyson]

"What?" Though it sounds more like Mmwhaa!? with the bag in her mouth. She climbed the side of your freakin' house, is entirely too far from the ground, and could potentially break her neck any second. Wow, Dean. Okay. Hang on a sec. She shifts her weight, pressing herself against the glass a little more to free up one of her hands so she can flip him the hell off.

How's that for secret password?

Let her in, ya butt!

[venatical]

That'll do it. He opens up the window and takes the hand flipping him off, helping to pull her into his room.

"You're not some kind of double agent now, are you?" He has to ask, Kenzi. He's giving her the eyebrow look of doom too. "Gabriel didn't send you over here with poisoned -- what's in there?"

[onteamdyson]

Oh, thank god. She lets the bag drop from her mouth into her hand and gives him an eyebrow look of her own. "Double agent? Please. That shit is so second grade. I'm freelance." Seriously, she's gotta be like... a billiondruple agent at this point.

"And if Gabe sent me, you think I'd be using the window? I can't him and his people see me hanging out with you! It would ruin my rep." She smirks and tosses the bag at him. "Meat."

Just meat. No, seriously. Thankfully, it's not the rum-soaked, leaf-covered rabbit from last night. It's homemade jerky! Deer jerky. Delicious. Well-- ... okay, it's edible, at least.

"Are you hiding out from the big, bad, feather-covered softie? Seriously? Dude. This feud is getting ridiculous."

[venatical]

When she says meat, he's afraid it's, like, raw, but he peeks inside and finds jerky instead. Awesome. He pulls some out and starts eating, and he kicks out his desk chair before he falls into it. His desk actually has stuff on it; he's started planning out some things he can do for the reconstruction team, some ideas for what to build up, but he's not about to start putting his face out there with angels breathing down his neck.

"Yeah, well, tell your buddy Gabe to knock it off. He didn't get anything he didn't have coming to him." He talks with his mouth mostly not full, but manners aren't his forte.

[perfectantidote]

"And that is a change to the usual... how?"

Cas doesn't knock, because fuck you. Why should he knock? The wards don't keep him out, they merely make him mildly uncomfortable. Look, there's a silver lining to being powerless and literally burnt out - he can go wherever he damn well pleases, thank you very much.

So of course, it's ruined by the fact that he gets to feed this dear assbutt. Some things will never change, including a cooped up Dean just not dealing well. At least this version of him is also much less likely to swing punches at Cas.

Pity, really. Some punches could have turned into frustrated rutting and... he's bored, okay, no judging allowed.

Cas kicks the door closed behind him and holds up two plates. "If you, uh, behave, difficult as though this concept must be for you to adhere to... I might let you have the one with the illegal substances." And he grins. Bored, but oh so easily entertained.

[venatical]

Oh, hey. It's... other Cas. Dean's stomach clenches a little automatically, just like it's always done with this guy. It's like when Sam was having his visions; it feels fundamentally wrong, and it puts Dean off, but he can't be put off from Cas, and especially not when he's clearly... fucked up. Like, majorly fucked up. Dean missed out on what happened between his moment in time and 2014, but he can't help but blame his other self for not helping him. And like, Dean knows what his Cas is like, and the guy would sooner... freaking... work with Crowley than come to Dean for help on the big shit, but still. His other self sacrificed Cas. That's a clear sign that the most fucked up one? Was himself.

"Mm," he hums skeptically, lifting his eyebrows as he reaches for one of the plates. "No thank you. Guess it's good for us both that I aim to misbehave." He tries to give one of his more machoy smiles, but it doesn't quite stick.

"You really laced one of these with drugs? What is it this time?"

[perfectantidote]

The fun thing about being a fallen angel with little to no power? He can still read Dean fairly well. No matter how drugged up, for example, he was well aware of the differences between past and future Dean (or present Dean, for him). So that very mild discomfort Dean feels? Yeah, Cas can totally tell, and he lets it roll off him with a smile.

Roll off in this case means he swallows it like a bitter pill and pretends it doesn't matter. It's the end of the world, etc. etc. blah blah, who has time to be eloquent.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

The truth is, he hasn't laced anything with anything, which is a damn shame, but his ressources are limited and he has to be careful not to use them all up. He's thought about it, honestly, but there's always the chance that someone in this house gets all 'well-meaning' and 'nice' and 'helpful' and destroys the food because Cas has consumed enough to get high (or full). So, no. Not unless he's alone. With a wink, he hands Dean one plate.

"Besides, weren't you going to stop trying to label everything I take, Dean? You're gonna give yourself a headache, you know."

[venatical]

He takes the plate, trying not to notice how clearly Cas has given up, how much he's checked out. It's unsettling, and yeah, Dean doesn't really like Cas doing hard drugs, like, constantly here because what's he numbing out, right? There's no Croatoan virus; life isn't the greatest, and Dean wants to go home, but this place is a far cry from where Cas comes from, and Dean knows it. So why's he still giving up? What's he checking out on?

"Does that mean you don't even know?" He glances up at him, holding him in his gaze for a second, before he nods at the bed next to him. Sit. Even if he looks so much like the other Cas -- and Dean knows they're two different people, that's what makes it extra weird, like he's hanging out with the troubled twin -- and Dean has issues being around Original Flavor Cas. This one's different, right?

"I'm surprised you aren't trying to save some of that. For when you run out." He glances over again, an eyebrow lifted, half questioning, half warning.

[perfectantidote]

The answer is so much simpler than that. Ah, if only Dean knew. The problem has never been nestled within the confines of Croatoan infected masses, and the core problem is ironically enough enhanced instead of dimmed in this place. Because here, Cas is forced to face the siblings the lost, all of them still perfectly celestial and whole in ways he'll never be again.

Here, he can feel the almost non-existent little wisp that is his Grace more than he ever could back in that alternate universe he stems from. Here, he feels even more hollow than usual, because he's not only surrounded by the human race he's fallen into, but has to deal with what he used to be and lost.

Cheerful.

Cas follows the nod and lowers himself onto the bed next to Dean, managing a graceful kind of slouch. Such a contradiction within himself, at all times.

"There's an end to all things, Dean. I will run out, so I might as well make sure the... uh... path to withdrawal feels as good as possible."

[venatical]

Why does everything this Cas says sound like a suicide plan? No, he doesn't really want to look at the answer to that, not when he figure out why really easily. It's just frightening to him to think of Cas -- any Cas, his Cas too -- so on the verge, so willing to self-destruct not even out of... Like, okay, Dean's had suicidal plans, but he wasn't offing himself for the sake of it or because -- He saved people doing it, he -- Okay, there's no defending this one to an outside voice, but he can set that aside now. Cas is like hurl yourself off a cliff because you hit rock bottom and there's no looking back kind of suicidal and Dean struggles with that.

"That's a shitty plan." He looks over at him, and he tries to see the other Cas in him. What bothers him is that he can. It was hard when he first met this Cas, but having seen what Cas gets up to, how he reacts, he can see where they break apart in the same ways, just colored differently.

"Am I going to have to strap you to the bed like when Sam was going cold turkey?"

Could the other Cas cure him of any of that, or help him along? It's something to wonder... but probably not ask this Cas about.