20: [Video/Action] Open Arms

[dashboardlite]

Dean is slumped in one of the easy chairs in his room, seemingly completely oblivious to the camera he's left on the bedside table.  It's at enough of an angle that half his face is obscured by the shadows in the dimly-lit room, and the only sources of illumination are the floor lamp off in the far corner, and the soft electric glow of the radio's face.

The only thing it's been playing today are Journey's greatest hits, but it's been stuck on a loop of Faithfully and Open Arms, which made Dean think, and thinking is always a bad idea when he's convinced that he's fucked up almost every close friendship - or relationship - he's had with anyone since coming here.

Dean is starting to see a pattern, and if the expression of grim pain on his face isn't enough of a giveaway that something is wrong, then the beer bottle dangling from his fingertips over the left arm of the chair ought to be.  Reaching down, he tugs off one of his heavy biker boots and chucks it at the radio, which clatters to the floor and fizzles out of whatever reception it was getting.

He knows he should be happier.  His brother is here.  Sam, Sasquatch that he is, is here - albeit older - the the guilt he feels over moping when he should be catching up with Sam is...really awful, actually.

But everyone has those days, right?

Right?

Comments

;__;

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip shakes his head. ]

What has this world come to when an honest citizen can't even desecrate a grave in peace?

[ And that joke is coming from the guy who saws off people's hands on a regular basis and runs around with a head in his rucksack. ]

...Glad to hear it worked out though.

[ Because it didn't even occur to him what a problem the law would be for Dean, given the things he probably has to do for his "job". And because it's nice to hear about one of his victories after the Apocalypse will happen sounded a little like an all too depressing defea. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Yeah.

[Dean's smile suddenly falters as he remembers what had happened after he and Sam were wiped off the charts. The entire police station had been razed to the ground. By Lilith. Nancy, the sweet, poor girl who hadn't even gotten laid. Henricksen, the FBI agent who was just as lonely as Dean, and not nearly as big a douchebag as he'd made himself out to be. Six others. Dead, and they couldn't have stopped it.

Happy memories? What are those, anyway? Dean hasn't had a happy memory since he was twelve.]

...yeah, it worked out.

[Pull yourself together. That was months ago.]

And grave desecration is hard work, man. Do you have any idea how long it takes to unearth one body?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip's smile slowly follows in faltering as he wonders whether Dean's change in expression should be subject to further enquiry. Does he want to know? Probably, yes. Should he ask? Probably not at all, no. ]

...I haven't given the matter all that much thought, no.

{ }

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[It's best not to ask, really. The less Dean thinks about how many people die in his wake, the better.]

A while, dude. Tough stuff. You try diggin' up six feet of packed dirt, gettin' four hours of sleep, and looking as good as I do. And the drives to get there are-

[He stops, groaning suddenly.]

...oh, god damn it.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

...What?

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

My car.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

What about it?

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

I can't believe I haven't even thought about her for...shit, Phil, like a month.

[He's been a little distracted.]

She's my baby, man.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Cue Ohhh, I get it now! expression. ]

Well. Wonderland isn't exactly a heavy traffic area and you were a little busy. [ Dying. Banging angels. You know... stuff. ]

...So what kind of car is i-- ...she? [ Small smirk. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[All right, yeah, so he's been a little busy. Saving people. Humping things.]

She, [Dean points to Philip, making sure he's got it downpat.] -Is a 1967 Chevy Impala. Smooth black, purrs like a kitten.

[He, uh. May be besotted with his car a little.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

And how long have you two been together?

[ It's clearly in good humour; Philip is happy to talk about any subject that does not involve trauma on either man's part. Besides, better to date a car than that bloody angel. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Can they actually hold a conversation about something not related to trauma? Let's find out!

Dean holds his hand over his heart, clearly playing along, and makes a simpering expression.]

Since high school, man. I grew up with her. Everyone loves a classic lady, right?

This is the only happy icon I have *sob*

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

And they say true romance is dead.

{ }

GET MORE. MORE, I SAY.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Ours is a love for the ages, baby.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ He smiles, then pauses for a moment. ]

So... what now?

[ After having established that he has a lovely lady he should be thinking about more often, that is. ]

Are you going to put up a picture of her over your bed, or...?

[ Have a minute of silence for her every day? Or... dare Philip suggest it? Find a replacement? ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

I dunno, man.

[He shrugs, frowning a little. Dean almost feels like he's betrayed her, somehow, by not even thinking about her all this time. He can't even remember the last time he drove, either. How long has it been, now? Five months?

Shit.]

I could, but that might be just a little weird, even for me. [Dean chuckles, and then:]

...hey. You ever, uh. Build anything? Mechanics-wise?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Not recently apart from bombs, but... yeah, sure. I did.

[ Quite a number of things in the course of his studies, actually, though he's been keeping to his beloved theory in recent years.

Still, some tinkering at home or as a favour for a friend every now and then and... Dean might even be surprised, he's actually fairly good at this. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

What, like pipe bombs? Jesus, dude. Are you secretly a terrorist? [Dean laughs.] Well, I was...I was thinkin'...we could build a car.

[Not a replica of his baby, but, y'know. Something that'll occupy time.]

1/3

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

No! No. No, nothing like that, I just...

2/3

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ He leaves the realm of drama-free happiness for a quick detour. ]

Some parts in the mines in Greenland weren't as accessible as they should have been.

3/3

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip waves it off. ]

Anyway, I...

[ It's been a long time since he's last tinkered with a car beyond some veryvery basic repairs, but as far as distractions go that sounds just about perfect. He smiles. ]

That sounds great.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Dean waves off the past trauma as well. They really do just trade sob-stories. That's gotta change.]

I know we can't drive the sucker, but Hell if I'm gonna sit back and do nothin'.

[He grins back. Manly bonding time is a go.]

What kinda car, you think?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ He thinks about this for a moment. ]

Whatever we can get, I suppose. I've never asked the closets for half a garage before.

[ After another moment's thought he raises his hands in an universal I give up, don't ask me gesture and continues the lady car metaphor. ]

You decide. I don't have a type.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Dean mulls this over. It's a little disappointing that Philip doesn't have a preference - that seems weird, right? - so he's going to have to pick something himself.

Anything Chevy is just going to make him miss his baby, so investing in a different style might be the way to go.]

...you ever seen The Dukes of Hazzard?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Well, Philip will ride anything that comes along.

...

...

...

Moving on. ]

A few times. Don't remember all that much of it.