21: [Video/Action] Dark Side of the Moon

[dashboardlite]

Sam?!

[It's playing on a loop in Dean's head.]

Mom?  Mom!  Dad?!  C'mon, this isn't funny!

[The...the Dean in the television had been screaming.  For an hour.]

Bobby?  Dad!  You guys, please!  Don't just...don't just leave me here.

[Until his voice was raw.  Until he couldn't scream anymore.  Until he curled up and sobbed.  Dean can remember it distinctly enough.  Something that was him.  But not him.  Alone in a room.  It was dark, and quiet.  And no one was answering.  No one was there.  Not even-]

Cas?!

[Dean sucks in a shaky breath, settled in the corner of his childhood room in his old house.  The entire kitschy motel room looks like his house, down to the gash in the paintjob from when Dean ran his Hot Wheels cars into the wall, repeating some movie stunt he'd seen on tv when he was four.  Cradling a small statue of an angel - one of the only things he found in the room that was completely unscathed, and a gift from his mother - Dean sends a terrified, sidelong glance at a family portrait, framed and hung on the wall.

Hairline fractures have snaked through the infrastructure of the bedroom, the window panes split and spider-webbed, the photographs of everyone close to him torn.  His mother is ripped from every single one.  Sammy has slashes through his face; white scrapes made with an Exacto knife in anger.  And Dean isn't even next to his father in any of them.]

Someone...  [He croaks, looking down at the statue of the angel in his hands.  Dean can't remember when he first noticed it was in his room, on his shelf, but he definitely remembers that his father thought it was sort of silly.  His mother believed otherwise.]

It's okay, baby, it's all okay.  Angels are watching over you.

[Dean swallows before trying again.]

...anyone?

Comments

[ACTION]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip nods and stands up, slowly and wobbly, pausing until his head stops spinning. ]

Yeah. Sure.

[ At Dean's last comment he smiles wryly. ]

Though it's probably a little late for that.

[ Because at least today his horrible and freezy fate outside the mansion seems sealed. ]

[ACTION]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Dean stands as well, giving Philip a companionable clap on the shoulder and a brusque nod.]

I'm serious, man. Sleep off the booze. Lemme know if you need help - I gotta shake the dust offa me, anyway.

[His smile widens.]

S'my job, remember?

[ACTION]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ There are only so many times Philip can nod and weakly voice agreement, but here goes... ]

Yeah, I... I will. Thanks. Again.

[ He forces one last smile before turning and slowly heading for the door. It doesn't come easy, not when Dean's job makes him remember one of his shadow's many unsettling announcements...



Philip cringes and stops at the door. He looks back hesitantly. ]

Dean, uhm...

[ The question 'What would you do if Clarence ever took control of my body?' is preparing for jump-off at the tip of his tonuge.

...But if the answer includes an unceremonious beheading followed by salted and burnt remains, does he really want to know? ]

...See you.

[ Nope, didn't think so.

Philip turns around and walks out into the corridor. ]