tushanshu_logs

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Characters: Dean Winchester and YOU!
Date: Feb. 12
Location: Throughout the Water sector.
Situation: Dean is on a turtle. This is not, actually, the weirdest thing to happen to him.
Warnings/Rating: Dean's potty-mouth. :(

[He's taken a few days to adjust and a few things are apparent. First, this is definitely not a dream. It was a possibility he briefly entertained, but everything really does appear to be just as real as he was told it is. Two, he has a serious shortage of spellwork ingredients. The only finger bones he has are the ones in the hexbag that came with him and he has no idea where in god's name he's supposed to find raw opium on a giant turtle, which means he has no way of working a spell to try and contact anyone on the other side.

On the upside, nothing has tried to kill him (yet. Iorvath, we're looking at you.), which is a definite advantage over ...pretty much anywhere else he's ever been in his life, Heaven included. So there's that.

So okay, Dean's come to the conclusion that he may be stuck here for the long haul and he might not be able to get the same kinds of supplies Bobby used to have lying around, but he can at least build up a minor arsenal. Step one: salt. This proves more difficult than it sounds because buying anything involves dealing with kedan and it's apparent to anyone that they make him incredibly uncomfortable. He might not be openly antagonistic toward them at the moment, but it's obvious he's not a fan, either. No, he looks at them the same way someone might look at dog crap smeared on a shoe. Gross.

It's cool. He's still managing to successfully get the things he needs--or at least, some weird approximations of them that he's pretty sure might work--and he meanders his way from shop to shop with a slowly growing number of items in his hands.]

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If you're planning to walk around wearing Iolande's unifor-- [He freezes, realising what he's saying, and the brief expression of joy he had at bantering crashes immediately.]

[WHOA that is not a good look on Kyle's face. That is misery or heartbreak or...indigestion, maybe. Hard to tell.] Hey, hey. What's up? You okay? Need to sit down?

Sorry. I'm fine - just... ignore that. I didn't mean -- [He looks away, and tries to regulate his breathing.

Because the man standing in front of him isn't Guy Gardner. He repeats that to himself, like a mantra, quietly, until he can look at Dean again.] I'm fine. Sorry about that.

[Fortunately for Kyle, Dean is not exactly the touchy-feely, let's talk about our feelings kind of guy. Or at least, he didn't used to be. Unfortunately for Kyle, Dean's gotten better at articulating and encouraging other people to do the same in recent months.]

Someone you miss, I'm guessing. Family?

[Encouragement is just what he needs.

He smiles, but it's painful. Family. Everyone else from his world had family. Even Jason. It wasn't fair, and he thought it was stupid to feel jealous about it. He knows he'd give so much to see Guy, or Hal, or John... and at the same time he'd want to tear the Emperor or whoever had brought them here to pieces if they did show up. It hurt, to look at Dean and want him to be Guy; and it was unfair, too, to expect him to be someone else.

It feels like an eternity before Kyle replies, when he's sure his voice won't be strained:] My brother.

[Of course it was more complicated than that, but the sentiment was real, and that was good enough for Kyle.

Another smile: warm, wistful, before it's replaced by a neutral expression.] You're a lot like him. It's not unpleasant, just [he searches for the word] uncanny.

[A beat.] Sorry. I'll try not to do that again.

[Kyle is so, so lucky that Dean is a) already used to having a younger brother and b) knows what it looks like when someone is thinking about more and bigger things than they're telling you about. He knows that look of...maybe not quite loss, but definitely loss. He's seen that look on Sam's face...and on his own in the mirror.]

Believe me, I understand uncanny. Look, don't apologize, okay? You remind me of people, too.

[Not that he's saying which people.]

[Kyle mentally hazards a guess at 'younger brother', but he doesn't want to pressure Dean to talk about it.] In the good way, I hope.

[Ding ding ding! Kyle's mental guess would be right on the money! ...Except that Kyle reminds Dean a little bit of Cas, too, what with that birdy-headtilt thing they've both got going on.

Ow, man. Right in the feels.]

I've got some real good people to think about, so yeah. Definitely the good way.

[MOVING ON]

So what about your world, huh? What've you got? Magic, aliens, tiny fairies, freaky giant rats?

[Speaking of headtilt, here it is again. Kyle does it when he's curious or amused, and in this case, he's amused.] That plus the alien versions of that. Not all of it's out to kill you though, but maybe sixty percent wouldn't really mind if you got roughed up along the way.

[He doesn't normally speak so plainly, but he gets the feeling Dean is someone who will understand who Kyle is and what he does for a job.]

[Cas only headtilts when he's thinking really hard or feeling especially skeptical or curious. ...Ow, he made himself sad again. Cover it quick, Dean.]

Lucky you. Wish roughing up was all our side had, but no. They like brains with a nice side of kidney. ...And some fava beans and a nice Chianti.

[Dean is not actually as hilarious as he might like to think he is, but yes, he does at least understand who Kyle is and what he does for a job.]

So you're a save the universe kind of guy, too, huh.

Don't stop them and the next thing you know they'll be opening fine dining restaurants downtown. [To put it mildly. He can play along with the jokes, not!bro.

He's also catching those expressions - he's getting used to Dean now; he'll ask when the time is right.] You could say that. [He holds up his right hand: he's wearing a green ring that has an insignia in the shape of a stylised lantern.] We use these.

[Alas, the time is rarely right with Dean. Better to just ask and weather the inevitable implosion of emotions.

...Poor everyone who has to deal with Dean and his emotions ever. Sorry, Kyle.]

You use a ring? Seriously?

[Dean has exactly no room to talk, considering he's spent his day gathering things like chicken feathers and salt. A ring is not the weirdest crime fighting tool out there.]

How exactly is it more lame than salt? [He doesn't mean it, for all he knows Dean makes it super-powerful magic salt...]

My salt don't look like I pulled it out of a Wheaties box as a prize, for one thing. [Dean grins. It's okay, Kyle, he's just being a big-brother-shaped jerk. He can't help it.]

[He's used to it; this time he falls back into the banter with complete joy, and the comfort of familiarity.] I'll take this over the miniature submarines, thanks.

Miniature submarines. [Kyle what. That is the most ridiculous thing Dean has ever heard and he's heard a lot of ridiculous things in his time. He got trapped in a TV show once!] You fight space monsters with tiny submarines? Tell me the things are at least yellow.

Green. [He meant the cereal prizes, but he isn't going to miss an opportunity to tease Dean.] Or you know, mix it up and use a classic Aston Martin.

[Yes, good. That feels good and natural. Homey, even, but Dean isn't going to think about that. He's good at compartmentalizing.] Beautiful car, but it'll never get you from point a to point b the way a Chevy can. [BIASED]

[Oho? That sounds like a proud owner.] Which model?

[Not just a proud owner, a proud papa.] '67 Impala. Most beautiful chunk of metal on wheels I've ever seen in my life. [And now, a brief moment of silence, if you will, for the lovely car he left behind. Poor Baby. Dean will go back to you someday.]

What about you, huh? You got something like that you love, other than that cereal box ring of yours? [He'd point and laugh, but, y'know. Bags of creepy witchcraft makings in his hands here.]

[Dean, ask nicely and he'll make a construct of one. It's not the same thing, but a ride's a ride.] Nah. I'm usually on the move, large material possessions aren't really a good idea.

[There was his mother's painting, but it wasn't here and there was no use pining over it.]

[That would be so amazingly tempting if Dean was aware Kyle could do that. Fortunately for Dean's self-control, he is unaware that Kyle can do that.

Besides, what Kyle just said pinged more of Dean's big-brother tendencies.]

I know that feeling. You grow up an army brat or is the on the move thing new to you?

[A brief cold expression crosses his face at army brat. His father is not something he enjoys talking about, even if he's trying to forgive, or trying to accept that they have similarities.

It occurs to Kyle that he's the guy with daddy issues and this is somewhat funny.] After I got the job, but I've been doing it long enough to adjust. You?

[There's another expression Dean knows all too well, except this time it isn't one he's seen on his little brother's face, it's the one he sees in the mirror every morning before he gets his game face on. Dean shifts his weight casually and readjusts the packages under his arms.

Kyle's not the only one with daddy issues.] Same situation. Funny how that happens, right? Sometimes it almost feels like my whole life's been in a warzone. [Dean, that's because it has been.]

It really does, but [he looks nostalgic, a little hurt, but cheerful. No one else got it the way Dean was getting it, so he ventures boldly-] I wouldn't trade for anything else.

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SOB I'M SORRY i am the slowest tagger

THERE IS NO LATE THERE IS ONLY FUN

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NO SERIOUSLY I'M SORRY. I SUCK

no worries! really <33

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