24: [Video] Traveling Riverside Blues

[dashboardlite]

[At first, Dean had thought that the dream he had a couple nights before was just weird.  Clockwork dolls, inky-black demon eyes - it was bad mojo.  Things are changing around him, and for the most part it doesn't bother him too much.  He expects it, now, because this mansion is screwed to Hell and back and there's very little that surprises Dean anymore.

Except for when he takes a walk outside, and his tranquility is promptly ruptured by the sight of his car.  Sure, he's been dwelling on the lack of transportation recently, but still.

His car.

An excited video message from a Dean Winchester that hasn't genuinely smiled in months is being broadcasted, and he'd love to share his obsession one true love beautiful lady with all of you.]

Dude.  Dude.  My- guys, I can't even...seriously, it's just- it's my baby.  She's here, and she's beautiful, and she's so goddamn perfect.  You all gotta come down and see her.

[He suddenly wonders if he can project miles of endless highway if he thinks about it hard enough.  It's worth a shot.

Dean is so ecstatic that he doesn't even know who he's advertising this information to.]

Comments

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip accepts the invitation and is instantly awestruck by the overwhelmingly wonderful sensation of normality. He leans back into the seat and stares ahead. ]

...I don't remember the last time I sat in a car.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

I'll go easy on you.

[Dean imagines up a pair of coolkid sunglasses (http://www.comparestoreprices.co.uk/images/to/top-gun-mirrored-aviator-sunglasses.jpg) and hands them to Philip before whipping out his own pair (http://images4.fanpop.com/image/polls/533000/533315_1283694789205_full.jpg) and putting them on.

Why yes, the imaginary sun is high overhead and at its brightest. Thank you for asking.

Hand on the gearshift, Dean moves from first, to third, and slowly makes it up to fifth gear, enjoying the muscle memory and dexterity that manual transmissions require, pleased that he hasn't forgotten. It's like riding a bike. He's mostly cruising for the sake of cruising, rolling the windows down and letting the air in.

After a minute or so of silence, he waves a hand in Philip's direction.]

Put some music on.

[The implication being Make sure it's good or else.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ For a moment Philip looks unsure about the accessory, but a quick and scorching hello from the sun through the windscreen makes him see (or rather squint at) the necessity of it... along with its atmospheric value.

At Dean's request he leans forward and-- stops, drawing back his hand. Pushing buttons isn't going to work, unless the Queen also runs her own Wonderland FM station.

Falling back into the seat Philip exhales. Those implications are a serious threat for a casual listener who is more used to living off the radio's background music and other people's selections than purchasing and nurturing his own collection.

He thinks. For a moment Bad Moon Rising springs to mind, because he feels that he owes Dean a proper version of that song. But then the guitar plinks happily in his mind and he doesn't trust himself to not mix the two up.

He thinks some more. Suddenly the radio comes to life and crackles with the beginning of this interesting piece of work (http://youtu.be/fNAKH4KdRY0). Philip glares. The music stops. ]

{ }

[ Philip looks at Dean apologetically. And there is the idea!

A screech, as if changing stations. And then this. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ukt8eRxz7Us) ]

...I think that's better.

1/2

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Philip is really going to have to learn how to nurture and expand his musical horizons. This is serious stuff.

It's fortunate for both of them that he doesn't choose Bad Moon Rising, because Dean might accidentally imagine a semi out of nowhere slamming into his baby, and there's nothing quite like a car wreck to screw up your day.

Although this music has him making a weird face.]

2/2

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Thank God Philip changes it from the sounds of cracked-out crickets to the utterly brilliant electric guitar of Boston. Mood greatly improved, Dean turns up the tunes and speaks a little louder over the riff.]

Hey, you ever been anywhere in America?

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[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

...Baltimore, once.

Seven or- I think seven years ago. They'd invited one of our professors over for a few guest lectures and he took me and another tutor along.

[ Cue reminiscing face. ]

We took a city tour the afternoon we arrived and it was incredible.

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[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Cue slightly less enthused face. ]

...Then in the evening I caught food poisoning and spent the rest of the week in my hotel room.

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Dean remembers Baltimore. He remembers it being pretty grungy, actually, and the memories there aren't particularly fond. He does remember it, though being a small-town kind of guy just runs in his blood. Big cities make him claustrophobic.

He grimaces sympathetically, sliding his sunglasses down on his nose and giving Philip a sidelong glance.]

...This'll be better.

[For someone who actually had some semblance of a life, Philip doesn't appear to have experienced it to the fullest. Dean conjures up something new (http://pixdaus.com/pics/1241912234AFWs9XB.jpg).

It's not so bright anymore. Midwestern fields of wheat have been replaced by scruffy tufts of grass and substantial rock formations in the far distance. He was only out in Arizona once or twice on a job, but something like this is hard to forget.

For all that Dean hasn't assimilated into the real world, excluding monsters, he's seen a lot more than plenty of other people.]

S'the Painted Desert. We'll stop for beers soon, or somethin'.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Perhaps Philip would have arrived at a similar conclusion about the city if he'd seen more than a cherry-picked afteroon worth of its grungy splendor. As it is he'll have to stick to his first impression and a lingering appreciation for the comfort of its hotel room beds.

Philip tries a smile. He can guess what somebody who literally lives on the road sees in the landscape, but impressive as it may be, for him it just looks... lonely. ]

What about you? Do you hunt outside of the US or is that just a national service?

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Lonely? Ten points on the first try, Philip, bravo! You've just described Dean in a nutshell. No wonder he digs the majestic, barren wastelands: made by the grace of God, left to erode in the middle of nowhere. Dean laughs nervously.

Hell no, never been outta the U.S. Why do you think I drive everywhere, Phil? I wouldn't get on a plane if you paid me.

[This is a totally rational, logical fear, so stop judging him.

Seriously, stop it.]

[1/4]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ This face forever. ]

(2/4)

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[...would be his reaction if he thought 'wouldn't get on a plane if you paid me' was a sign of Dean's phobia rather than his solidarity to his country. Give him a moment to catch up. ]

You should really take a holiday sometime. At least hunt something abroad. Or you could--

[ "...come visit me and see if I'm still alive". Philip stops himself before he can finish putting that train of thought into words. ]

...Anyway, you should really try it sometime. For instance, it's actually only a short flight to--

{3/4}

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ And there it is. ]

...Wait. No, wait you-- You didn't mean--

[ He gapes. ]

When you said that you wouldn't... you- you meant-- You're afraid of flying?

<4/4>

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

You. Are afraid of flying.

[ This face. Forever. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

...shut up.

[There are a million and one things he could say in his defense, but most of them probably won't matter.

So Dean grips the steering wheel tighter, eyes on the road, grateful for his sunglasses.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Shutting up.

Just looking straight ahead.

Grinning. ]

1/2

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Planes crash, okay? Geez. Stop judging him with your English judging of judge-liness.

He's never going to live this one down, is he?]

2/2

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[As a convenient distraction, Dean pulls over on the side of the road after a few minutes of tense, DON'TJUDGEME silence. He cuts the engine, gets out of the front seat, and stares (http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs8/i/2005/318/7/9/Desert_Sunset_by_ahff.jpg) out into the distance.]

...yeah, this is what we're drinkin' beers to.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip gets out of the car and follows Dean's stare. ]

It looks...

[...terrifyingly reminiscent of pools of blood, actually. He swallows, hesitant to complete the sentence even in a flattering manner, but likewise unable to avert his gaze.

No matter what it looks like, it still looks incredible. For some time he stares in silent awe.

Then a smirk crosses his face and soon after something else (http://i.imgur.com/AzBsl.jpg) crosses the horizon. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[What's that you said? It looks awesome? Yes, that's what we thought. Dean moves to the trunk of the Impala, pulling out a beat-up, green cooler and dropping it next to the front of the car. He pulls out a couple bottles of beer, tosses one to Philip, and cracks his own open to take a satisfying sip.

...which he promptly spits out when he see the plane.

Dean shoots Philip a dirty look.]

C'mon, man.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

I just- [ A chuckle. ] can't belive that you actually--

[ He stifles a laugh, then looks at Dean and takes a deep breath. ]

...No, you're- you're right, I shouldn't-- that wasn't-- I'm sorry.

[ He looks at the sky and watches the plane turn into a swarm of birds. ]

...I'm sorry.

[ Philip raises his bottle. ]

Cheers?

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.

[He's a bit grumbly now, and takes a heavy swig of beer before glancing over at Philip again. He won't mention that the fear of planes has to do with heights as well.

Shut up.]

...cheers.

[Dean clinks bottles with him and smirks around the glass lip as he imagines something else.

Hey, Philip? Remember when you almost froze to death and then had to thaw in front of a fireplace? Remember that nasty, bitter tea you drank? Yeah. That's what's in your beer bottle now.

Enjoy. ♥ ]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Ahhh, nothing like the cool and refreshing taste of bFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.

If only there were any plants in the vicinity; they might appreciate the additional moisture. ]

Christ, what--

[ Philip grimaces and sniffs the bottle. Oh. That. He shoots Dean a glare.

Speaking of, look at your man. Now back to Philip. Look down. Back up. What's that in your hand? A beer bottle? Now look again. It is now a stalk of celery. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Where are you now? Look up, look down - You're still in a desert, with the man whose beer you turned into a vegetable.

Dean was laughing up until the part where tried to take another sip of his beer and ended up jabbing himself in the face with a celery stalk. Scowling and imagining another bottle for himself, Dean mutters something under his breath.

Look again - What's that in your hand, Philip? The bottle is now fruitcake (http://whatscookingamerica.net/Q-A/Fruitcake.jpg).

Anything is possible when you're Dean Winchester.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

...Really?

[ Philip rolls his eyes. Then eyes the fruitcake warily. Then takes a bite.

...All right, he has to hand it to him, juvenile as it may be, Dean's imagination is very tasty. Philip beams, then smirks.

And then he continues eating his cake next to a very, very pink car (http://i.imgur.com/zCbQx.jpg). ]