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

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

Touché.

[Dean nods, conceding the point.

But Dean in school? Ha. That's a laugh. Because it worked out so well for him last time. All he ever wanted to be recognized as in high school was the cool kid. Back then, he didn't have anything but an image, because telling the truth meant letting people in.

A lot of people raised their eyebrows at him. A lot of people still do.]

But hey, so long as you're okay with it.

[He shrugs, glancing over at the pool table. Funny how their attempts at levity always end up with conversations about their respective tortured pasts. Dean might even go on to throw out information about his dad, but that's enough mental breakdown for one day, don't you think?

He grimaces comically.]

...we don't hafta hug now, do we?

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip chuckles at Dean's aversion to the gesture. Not being an outstandingly huggy person himself he can safely say that the thought didn't even occur to him in the first place.

He makes a point of looking particularly disappointed regardless. ]

We can probably toast instead if you insist.

[ He raises one corner of his mouth into a smile and one hand with complementary whiskey glass for a toast. ]

[dashboardlite.livejournal.com]

[Oh, he insists.]

I dunno if I can handle that.

[Dean leans over to retrieve his glass, using the mystical power of his Imagination to fill it with delicious, delicious whiskey. He pauses for a moment, thinking of something worth toasting, and then grins as he lifts the tumbler.]

Here's to Hell. May my stay there be as much fun as my way there.

[Did you order more obnoxious optimism? One serving, coming right up!]

[sadfreezingbrit.livejournal.com]

[ Philip toasts, forcing the smile to stay on his lips with great determination. ]

To Hell.

[ An appropriate tagline for their lives if there ever was one. ]