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

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[Dean definitely didn't catch the sudden chill or the dog, because he was a little too distracted with the fact that he imagined Ben and Lisa without meaning to. He swallows hard, barely registering what Philip says. Nodding a little belatedly, Dean takes a step away from the table where they're sitting. Ben's shirt says AC/DC and he's playing his GameBoy. Lisa is checking her phone messages. They look happy.]

...yeah.

[He forces, unable to tear his eyes away. They were...they were actually the last people he wanted to see, and Dean has no idea why they're here at all.]

Yeah, that's them.

[But he doesn't imagine them away. It would be so easy.]

That's, uh...That's Ben. And Lisa.

[The one slice of apple pie life that Dean was offered, but he knows he can't have it. It's not that he doesn't deserve it, because Hell - he's sacrificed enough. He's given enough. He's lost enough. Dean can't let someone else in on that kind of danger, or that kind of life. No one deserves that.]

You know, I...I always thought these kinda places were too average for a guy like me. Grande cappu-whatever just doesn't seem right, does it? Not for me.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[Philip cringes as he catches a rustling sound behind them, not even wanting to turn around to check how Clarence is making his dreams come true.

He'd very much rather make the whole scene disappear again and limit his imagination to imagining Clarence's imaginations null and void, because the constant vigilance is giving him a headache.

Then again, he can't exactly ask Dean to leave. Not now. ]

Ah, but they've got great pie though.

[ Philip shrugs a little and smiles. At best he can make an elaborate guess at Dean's complaint, because if Average was a person then Philip would invite her to this place and propose on the spot, grande cappu-whatever and everything.

But speaking of proposal... ]

...You want to go and talk to them?

1/2

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[As considerate it is of Philip to suggest pie, the most glorious of comestible creations (excluding cheeseburgers with extra onions), Dean isn't sure he wants to stay. Or talk. Particularly since they aren't anything but figments of his imagination, and building a person from what he remembers seems like it'd be doing them a disservice.]

...Nah. Imaginary or not, they're better off without me.

[Dean does a brilliant job of covering up his unease with another one of his patented Unconvincing Smiles (TM). He spares his one-night weekend stand and her kid another glance before turning back to Philip and grimacing apologetically.

Lisa and Ben weren't supposed to be there in the first place.]

So, uh....

[He moves to a table along the cafe wall, seating himself and pointedly ignoring any of the other patrons should they turn into people he knows.]

2/2

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[Think of something else think of something else think of something else.]

...how 'bout that pie?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ That earns Dean a grimace of disbelief... amongst other things. Philip doubts they'd suffer terribly from Dean's company, unless his intention was to imagine a complimentary monster attack.

Still, he bites his tongue before that comment can escape and his expression eases up a little when he reminds himself that (perhaps for different reasons) he wouldn't want to spend all that much time talking to figments of his imagination either. Not again.

Now, where was he? ]

...Right.

[ Philip takes the chair opposite Dean and is about to flag down somebody when he remembers that he's allowed to skip a few steps.

And so the waitress instantly arrives with plates, forks and their order ready at hand (http://i.imgur.com/WM6nZ.jpg). Unlike her black-eyed co-worker her smile is more than genuine. ]

There you go.

[ Philip reaches for his fork and motions for Dean to choose the first slice. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Honestly? Dean doesn't trust himself enough to not re-imagine what happened with those changelings in Lisa's neighborhood, and he also doesn't want to ruin Philip's cafe with old memories that really aren't relevant since he won't see Lisa and Ben ever again.

Probably.

Dean leans in to scrutinize the magically-assorted pie slices, selecting cherry because - really? It's cherry pie. Do we have to give reasons? Sitting back with his selection on his plate in one hand, and his fork in the other, Dean takes a bite and glances over to see which piece Philip chooses.

Yes, he will be judging your decision. Choose wisely, Indy.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip uses Dean's brief pause of pie-related contemplation to conjure up a cup of coffee.

And now that the scene is complete and Dean's choice has been made he reaches for the slice of blueberry, oblivious to his impending judgement. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Good choice, Philip. If you went for the kiwi, then you'd really be fruity.

Look at the man across from you. Look down at his pie. Look up again. Look down - the pie is gone, and Dean is serving himself another slice. This time, he's after the peachy one.]

So-

[Speaking around a mouthful of pie...]

England. Is it as grey as they say?

[He's not good at small-talk, but he's trying.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ You just wait, that kiwi is next in line! ]

Are we seriously going to talk about the weather?

[ A short laugh. Wonderland and smalltalk does not compute. Dean and smalltalk does not compute.

But hey, Philip is perfectly willing to humour the both of them. ]

I guess it's...

[ He taps his plate lightly with the fork. ]

...I guess if it is then I just got used to it.

[ Philip shrugs and helps himself to a mouthful of blueberry deliciousness. And another. ]

So-- [ He reaches for his coffee. ] How's the pie?

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Don't judge him. He's really, really trying. Dean knows that Philip used to be a normal sort of guy before Greenland, and he'd at least like to help him with feeling average again.

As much as a monster-hunter dropout can, at any rate.

Dean imagines himself a cup of coffee - black, like his soul because lattes are for yuppies and Sam Winchesters - and takes a sip. Fork tines prodding at one of the peach slices, he glances back up at Philip, for a moment looking like a deer in headlights.]

...uh. Oh. Yeah, it's...it's pretty good, actually.

[Ground Control to Major Dean.]

Love me some pie.

[Dean sets the coffee mug back down and fiddles with the handle, chuckling.]

S'probably the one thing I can make from scratch.

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

You--

You... and baking? You mean like--

[ Has a frilly apron just been added to Dean's clothing ensemble? Yes. Yes, it has. ]

Like this?

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Jesus, what the Hell is with Philip and giving him The Eyebrow today? Dean looks down at his apron (http://www.emporiabella.co.nz/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/5e06319eda06f020e43594a9c230972d/I/M/IMG_2093a.jpg) and scowls, dying inside. He glances back up at Philip slowly. If looks could kill, Philip would have exploded like a Ziploc bag full of chunky spaghetti sauce.

He imagines the frills away and instead conjures something (http://www.chefwear.com/images/storeitems/0034_ChefwearToque.jpg) up on Phil's head.]

...yeah, like that.

[He then goes back to sipping his coffee.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ OH GOD IS THAT A-- oh. Just a fashionable kitchen accessory. Whew. Philip tentatively tilts his head a little, but eventually decides against that particular look and puts the toque aside.

But that reminds him... ]

Hey, at Christmas, were you-- [ No. Hang on. ] Uh, how long've you been here anyway?

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Dean was glancing out the imaginary window and imagining old pick-up trucks and small-town hustle and bustle up until Philip asked him another question.

It takes him a second to remember exactly when he got to Wonderland. It's June already, isn't it? Shit. It's been a while.]

October. Day before Halloween.

[So why was he asking about Christmas?]

Why? When did your rabbit hole acid trip start?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

Last Ma--

[ He stops himself. It was March in his world, but that didn't really fly with Wonderland. Come to think of it, that place probably owes him a birthday. The bastard! o9 ]

September. Last year at the end of September.

[ He thinks he sees a questioning look about the subject change and waves it off. ]

...I was just thinking about an events, that's all.

[ Specifically the one during which he spent three days trance-baking. In an equally frilly apron. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[It's okay - Dean thought he'd had a birthday back in January, but then he found out that birthdays don't count here. Which sucks.]

Damn. I got here like a month after you. S'weird that I didn't see you around until September. I guess if you were spending all your time in the library, though, it kinda explains it.

[REMEMBER THAT ONE TIME WHEN DEAN PLAYED JOURNEY? Good stuff, man. Good stuff. Dean tries to recall what else happened around the holidays, and the Kurt Hummel Debacle comes to mind with excruciating suddenness, as well as the Christmas gift to top all Christmas gifts.]

What'd you get in your Secret Santa stocking?

[Because that was the one redeeming feature from that entire event. Aside from watching It's A Wonderful Life with Cas. Dean doesn't call Castiel "Clarence" anymore, though. Not even to joke around.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ The library? Oh no, that wasn't until later. Not until Philip dared venturing out of his room more often. There was another Clarence debacle before he met Dean, after all.

Oh, but what's that sound? Dingdingding! Congratulations, Dean! You've hit a nerve!

Philip looks away. ]

A book.

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[These two fellows are such rays of sunshine, it's a miracle they're still mostly sane.

Dean notices the change instantaneously and almost regrets asking. He got a book for Christmas too, but his was chock-full of memories and notes taken down by his dad. His had a family photo in it. Dean presses, but not too hard.]

...that bad, huh?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Too late Philip snaps back into a reality in which he simply should have asked Dean about his present instead of getting stuck on his own souvenir.

He shakes his head. ]

It's just... not doing me any good here, that's all.

[ Not that it does anything bad either. Well. Apart from being a metaphorical neon sign flashing the words YOUR BIGGEST MISTAKE EVER at Philip.

At least it gets a chuckle out of Clarence who's been all too silent around Dean recently. ]

{ }

...My father sent it to me. Along with a few other documents, I... don't even remember what most of them were about anymore. Except for the coordinates.

[ Philip sighs. ]

He asked me to destroy it all, make sure nobody could ever find him- him or his work. But I...

[ The corner of his mouth twitches. The inevitable conclusion is just ahead. ]

I didn't.

{ }

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[This story sounds a little too familiar. Dean listens quietly, mulling over the few details he's given. In a way, his dad's journal sounds fairly similar. Absentee father leaves son with his life's work and a job to do. The only difference was the choice they made in response.

Dean was a good little soldier and followed his orders. Philip didn't. Despite all that, Dean's curiosity still eats away at him like rust on iron, and even the best soldier makes mistakes.

He's a perfect example of that.]

...I gotta say, Phil. If I were you, I'd have probably done the same thing.

[That might not be comforting, but it's still a form of consolation.]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip looks at Dean with a gleam of determination in his eyes. ]

I don't regret it. [ His gaze sinks again. ] I mean...

[ He regrets the way he went about his journey. He regrets the outcome. Boy, does he ever regret the outcome.

But he doesn't regret his decision and he certainly doesn't regret defying the single vague and presumptuous order of a man he hadn't met or spoken to once in his entire life. ]

I can't- can't imagine doing anything else.

[ Nevertheless Philip is thankful to hear that Dean would probably have made the same decision and his smile shows as much. ]

...Anyway. [ Cue subject change to the less frustrating aspect of his Wonderland present. ] The book is... I don't know. Symbols and... a language that doesn't make sense to anybody I talked to.

When I got it back I tried to decipher it here, but that didn't work either.

[ Beat. A scowl. ]

Clarence says he understands it.

{ }

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Yeah, let's...let's not talk about dads anymore. That's always touchy, and it makes Dean think too hard about his split-second decision to sell his soul for one last year with his brother. He doesn't regret that, either, but it wasn't his finest moment. Groveling was beneath him until then.

Anyway. Back to the mysterious book.]

Symbols and a weird language?

[Dean drums his fingers on his coffee mug for a moment, pie forgotten. Cas can speak a weird language. And write symbols that Dean isn't entirely familiar with. He's seen a few before on the Key of Solomon, but he couldn't verify unless he saw them again.

Shrugging, he decides to hold onto any suggestions involving Castiel until they have no other ideas.]

Might be something I know. Maybe...like...Enochian?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ If Clarence's hysterical laughter is any indication, then the answer is no. ]

I don't know what that is, but I doubt it. Hang on.

[ Making sure that Clarence is not currently in the process of mutilating his mind café Philip imagines having brought the book with him, causing it to instantly appear on the table.

He slides it over to Dean. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Dean pulls the book towards himself, flips it open, and thumbs over the first couple of pages. Then five or so more. He makes a face.]

Dude, I use sigils that are like a million years old and I haven't seen anything like this.

[Thank you, Dean. That was enlightening.]

...Hold on.

[In the next second his father's journal is in his hands, and he's holding both books side by side, trying to find something that looks similar. Dean mumbles around another mouthful of pie as he searches.]

Did your dad ever say what he was working on, or did he just send you this thing?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip shakes his head. ]

Nothing.

[ Oh, there's bitterness in that little word all right, because when Philip thinks about it Howard LaFresque is the one the blame falls on.

His father could have told him more, he could have warned him. Instead it was no information this and raise no further questions that. As if that could've possibly been enough to convince anybody. ]

...I never actually met my father until then. That was the first time he ever contacted me.

[ Now his tone is neutral, a mere clarification of something that may or may not be relevant, something he doesn't remember having mentioned before. ]