InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Think happy thoughts"

dean winchester ۶ coming undone (slaughters) wrote in dust_till_dawn,
@ 2009-04-14 18:15:00

who. dean winchester
what. hunter has become the hunted.
when. late night.
where. outside a bar.
locked to. justice.
rating. pg-13
status. complete.

'hot chicks. busy. see u later, geekboy.'

There was little to no disappointment when he wrote the note and pinned it on the back of his brother's jacket that was hanging on chair. Much like Sammy's teachers had done when he was in preschool and got sent home with a note pinned to the back of his shirt. Dean knew he'd see the amusement in it--or just bitchface at him when he got home because he would probably over look the note on his back until someone would point out the fact that he had something on his back. If that was the case? Dean would be sad that he missed the look on his brother's face. He always missed the best expressions of Sam when it came to some of the pranks he did when he was growing up. Except for the nair incident that lived deep in his mind as the best expression of 'the art of pranking'. He had yet to top himself, even with the itching powder that was always something of a brilliant move in his eyes. What could he say? He knew he was good when he was really good.

Dean had taken the Impala half way in town before parking it and strolling through downtown like he owned the place. For the most part he did. At least in his mind was he undressed a couple women at the corner of the street, giving them a passing smile and knowing they were doing the same right back at him. He did, after all, have the habit of trying to have someone to be with almost everyday of the week. The fear of anything, including human diseases was always blocked by the fear of going a month without getting any. Dean could deal with dry periods from time to time. Most of the time they were too busy to get some r & r. But when Sam was off trying to romance the Buffy girl. He was going to try and scam some co-ed who was a little too wasted to think about her boyfriend in Iowa. He'd just leave before the waterworks kicked in and he had to awkwardly comfort her. Something that usually turned him off for the next two weeks or so.

His r & r was looking better and better by the moment as he walked down the sidewalk, hands tucked in his jeans without looking like a total closed off freak. He met glances, smiled, smirked, laughed when he heard some women wolf whistle in his direction and flashed them a grin before checking out the blond one in the middle and knowing she and her friends would be like 'oh he was totally checking you out'. It was better than looking for something to kill. Even though he knew Los Angeles had an overabundance of things that went bump in the night. Every hunt he went on lately turned up a success. Dean was surprised that it was even turning that way--but apparently it wasn't just the City of Angels' but the city of demons and an assortment of other things to make you seek therapy for the rest of your life. He was getting the feeling even though he wasn't being the hunter tonight he was doing the reverse just at the feeling that was running up his spine. He knew the feeling of having someone's eyes on him--but this wasn't in a sexual way. This was in a 'I want to rip your heart out of your ass' way that just made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He wasn't going to let it ruin his night. He didn't get nights where he could just be some regular guy very often. Sure, to make it even more regular if he was actually having someone who called herself his girlfriend at his side. But Dean was not a one woman sort of man. Despite the one time he may have actually been called boyfriend. He knew he was fully capable of being called that again but with someone who appreciated and understood the work he did. It was musings like that--that made him actually glad his brother had found someone capable of keeping up with their work. Just like he assumed--Sam was the brother who would always find someone who understood him completely. Dean had himself to understand. Sam barely did but when he did--when he remembered everything from their childhood and pieced it to the man who was standing in front of him. Dean didn't feel as alone as he did when he stood in front of a woman who said her name was something 'exotic' and he was 'just her type'. Dean was sure he'd make a killing as a prostitute if he wanted too. Just in case he needed an occupation to fall back on. He was sure a "job to fall back on" was never going to be needed. He applied hunting to everything in his life.

Even flirting. The hours in the bar seemed to fly by and Dean had finally landed a pretty little college girl who worked as a secretary in some travel agency, hand stroking her bare thigh from where her skirt was hiking up as she sat beside him by the bar. She wanted to dance but he turned it down for "talking". Women ate that right up and he was sure he saw hearts in her eyes before leaning in, whispering his plan to ditch this place before paying for their drinks and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Amazingly making sure she didn't stumble over her own shoes as she wrapped her arm around his waist. Her hyena-like cackle when he told a joke as she stumbled out of the bar just made him smile more. At the very least he knew she probably wouldn't make it to the Impala as the blond led him through her 'short cut' through the alley which ended up with Dean's back against the wall. The both of them ignoring the scurrying feet of rats around them. Dean's hand already pushed up her shirt and getting a drunken moan from the secretary he'd yet to learn the name from. His mind was already off her, apparently she was the worst kisser in the history of the world. Or the history of Dean Winchester...all teeth. It was painful. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when he felt being watched once again. After all, he could only be distracted with the secretary's boobs for so long before he got bored. He was just hoping whatever was watching them would just hurry up and attack.

But when nothing happened, it was apparently anticlimactic. He bit down on her bottom lip and tried to urge her into STOPPING biting him before hearing someone walking down the alley and pushing away the girl, pulling his hand out of her shirt and glancing over to the petite woman at the other end of the alley. Well...that was unexpected. His brow rising a bit as the secretary sobered up quickly, pushing away from her male companion. "Is this your girlfriend? Might as well take that can of worms and run with it. "...yes, this is my girlfriend. Better run I think she's a kickbox instructor." Dean's head rocked back when the secretary slapped him and bolted out the other way, the older man turning to...the woman; tilting his head to the side. "So what brings you to this part of the woods? My amazing looks?" He smirked, folding his arms in front of his chest with an amused look in his eyes. He didn't know who the fuck it was. But she sort of saved him from the blond facehugger so he could just say his quiet thanks and get the reason why she was there.

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somethingwicked
2009-04-14 11:12 pm UTC (link)

The empty darkness has returned, it's presence a bitter pill, dissolving on the tip of her tongue.

Every experience had been life changing, altering between moral, immorality, and in between. She had been continuously indecisive, until she met the man with yellow eyes, reckoning them from her former life where the burning flame and torched her body; ashes to ashes, a gust of remnants in the treacherous wind. He spoke promises of revolutions, but the deed had a missing equation that she could solve. Sam Winchester.

Brothers came in pairs, evidently, which meant she had to hunt the older brother Dean, if she was going to reach Sam. Strategies had muddled her thoughts, twisting into motionless imagery, a storybook of tales in her occupied cerebral conscience. Justice hadn't been the advisory type. It was act now, think later. But since that technique usually lead to a beat down with Angel, or getting stabbed in chest by Buffy, she was growing accustom to creative options. There were no promises this meeting would go smooth. Justice was wreckless, and frankly she loathed this Winchester character the moment she heard about him.

Curiosity would be what killed the cat, hopefully it wouldn't though. She liked to think being a slayer a great portion of her life had earned her some insight on survival skills. Still, she hadn't known why they were caterig to Sam, praising him to lead an army just because Azazel shared his blood with him ages ago.

Blood went deep, but not that deep ( or maybe she didn't understand the scientific facts).

Still, she had been in no position to argue, and frankly this mission reminded her she wasn't human anymore, so there was no point pretending. Her conversation with Spike, nearly made her wish she had been, which pointed out the irony of what a vampire could do to you. All she wanted was clarity. So, following Dean all night hopefully would give her just that.

It was a provocative hunt the entire time. Dean smelled like sweat and arousal. Instead of hunting for demons, he'd been flirting with women. Still, she shouldn't of judged since prostitution use to be her profession. She had only expected more from the infamous demon hunter.

The female he had chosen for tonight was gullible, her laughs mimicking a hyena instead of a human. She stuck to the shadows of the bar, blending with the crowd, green eyes staring darkly in Dean's direction.

A couple of drinks and a few sexual passes later, they had exited the bar and found an alley more cozy. Justice hadn't followed admittedly, to avoid suspicion, but a couple of minutes and she picked up on the scent that lead right around the corner.

So, this is Dean Winchester? She scoffed in her mind, the second she reached the end of the alley. The girl had giggled, followed by a frown when she noticed Dean no longer played an interest and was now staring directly at Justice. She guessed since Dean had warned the girl to trample off, playing the 'angry girlfriend' card, he had known she wasn't here to play hooker.

"So what brings you to this part of the woods? My amazing looks?" She smirked at his comment, crossing her arms, mimicking his own stance. "Cocky," she commented, smoothly. "You must be Dean Winchester." She tried to stick with the plan, no violence, even if she wanted so badly to cut this guy's throat open and end the destruction of her kind now, then convert Sam to whatever destiny that was played out for him. If it had been her choice though, both brothers would be dead.

"So, you're the big bang. The big cheese! All that's right and all that's..." she stared at him, up and down. "Very wrong. Sex on a school night? You should be ashamed of yourself." Though Dean was no much older then her, Justice had felt much older since her time in Hell.

She approached Dean, slowly, calculating the distance between them and concluding the gap between just by a few paces, pausing and having herself a closer look at the hunter before her. "I thought you'd be taller."

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somethingwicked
2009-04-14 11:13 pm UTC (link)

Someone who reigned such anarchy, she expected a well-aged man, maybe decked out in tattoos and of course, very tall. Of course, maybe she was over-exaggerating and reminiscing of a cliche. Not all hunters were the same, and she certainly wouldn't underestimate this one.

"I just want to know one thing," she knelled down, enough to swipe the knife tucked in her left leather boot. "Are you a screamer? Cause I like a man who's not afraid to show his emotions."

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slaughters
2009-04-15 12:34 am UTC (link)

Despite the fact that he was only being 'hunted' because of Sam--Dean was the only one who was attempting to twart his brother's destiny as far as he knew. He knew from what his father had told him right before his death that there was way more things in play then both the brothers were privy to. Dean knew less about it then Sam so he, essentially, was already fighting in the dark while Sam possibly had some sort of light on. It was something that left a rotten taste in the eldest Winchesters mouth just as much as the blond had because she did not know how to brush her own teeth. Some part of him wanted to mention the invention of ORBIT gum but that'd get him kicked in the balls.

Something that he was looking forward to avoiding this evening if it hadn't been for the woman who showed up. The promise of a fight weighing heavy in the air. Dean was surprised that this is what his nights off had become. Demons and chicks with knives (or axes). There was not even the effort of trying to find a hunt as of late. It was more of just waiting for the huntee to come to the hunter much like turkey hunting. Something he'd discovered while bored one evening and capable of having more than sixty staticy channels and one not. The little things in life that made living a pleasure for him. Despite the fact that he had to squint to see Jenna Jameson when she was with some fugly dude as if squinting would assist him in seeing through the snow on the television.

It was moments like that when he realized that most demons feared someone so completely ridiculous that he somewhat felt sorry for them. Except for the ones that did evil things. Then he was pretty much on the 'screw it' train of the world--which he usually boarded every now and then. When the FBI came up, when Sam said they were staying in L.A. instead of traveling around. For the amount of time they were staying, Dean was almost tempted to get himself a place. He knew faking the credit score on a lease was as easy as faking an orgasm from some chick who was just not into it.

There was the temptation. He would probably work more on that thought process when he was done either kicking ass or getting his ass kicked by the girl in front of him. Dean was leaning towards more of the latter when it boiled down to it. He could handle explaining to Sam how Abel kicked his ass. But this chick? He'd do the limp of shame back to his girl and try to pretend it wasn't a girl like her who had made him her bitch. Despite the fact that he was sure other women her size had done so in the past. All of them had a couple things going for them and all of them were not human as well.

Though he was getting the vibes that she was also on that 'I'm a demonic bitch' freak train to, which was too bad. She was cute. He'd rather pick her up than the blond who had disappeared from sight. He wrinkled his nose in thought for a moment, tilting his head to the side and folding his arms in front of his chest. He pursed his lips together for a moment, biting his bottom lip before giving a shrug. "Never one for curfew. I had no father figure when I was growing up," he pretended to wipe a tear from his cheek and pouted before the expression quickly faded from his face.

"I thought you'd be taller." The hunter's brows shot up at that as he stepped forward just as she did. He wasn't exactly "naked" as much as he was carrying a handgun and knife somewhat on his person just as any time when he went out on the town. If there was one thing to say about Dean, regardless of what he gave off, he always came prepared. "Nah...I'm the prettier one. If you want tall you have to try the other one." He grinned, laughing just a tad bit. For the most part, he knew he was giving the impression of a 'green' hunter but that was far from what he truly was. Dean was more than that. He didn't need powers like Sam. He didn't need to be special.

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slaughters
2009-04-15 12:35 am UTC (link)

Despite the fact that he seemed to be surrounded by those that knew the purpose as to why they were there. Dean just knew he had work to do and would continue to do so until his dying breath despite the fact that many believed him to be some man who was looking only after his own ass or bathing himself in the carnal pleasures that humans were naturally inherit to. Dean wasn't someone who was 'normal' like that--he lived without regret because if he did feel regret then he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for the lives that he knew were torn in his wake.

He made no assumptions when it came to demons. They were disgusting things, yes. But masters at deception which this one was clearly not by the way she seemed to present what her intentions were in the 'I'm just going to shank a bitch' sort of tone and the way she walked. Usually this was just some easy sort of kill that he knew he would soon make but by her body language that she was going to be a bitch to put down. But they all fell down anyway. Either by him or someone else's hand. He just liked being the victor.

"I just want to know one thing," she knelled down, enough to swipe the knife tucked in her left leather boot. "Are you a screamer? Cause I like a man who's not afraid to show his emotions." He fought back the laugh that boiled up from inside him, dropping his arms to his sides and letting his face light up in a wide grin. "...that was possibly one of the most cliche things I've ever heard in my life. And trust me, I've heard 'I vant to suck your blood' before, princess." He smirked, tilting his head to the side before eying the knife in the woman's hand. "What? No maniacal laughs while you introduce yourself? You seem to know me. What's your name? Hobbies? Do you like long walks on the beach because if you do? I'm definitely picking you bachelor-ette number two."

Dean mirrored he actions just the same, tugging out the bowie knife that remained out of sight and flipping it in his hand just the once. "So...what do I owe the pleasure of being stalked all night? You like staring at my ass so you want to carve yourself a bit of it?" He smirked, flexing his fist around the handle of the knife in his hand. He glanced at the knife in his hand before his eyes went back to her. "I just want to know one thing...are you a talker? Because I like it when I'm just stabbing along and all they do is talk talk talk talktalk through the entire thing. Real big turn on."

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immorality
2009-04-16 05:36 am UTC (link)

It was loathing at it's finest, she barely even knew the man, but folks tales from a demon's lips was enough to convince her he was worth the hostility. The irrevocable need, caking layer upon later, to rip and tear until there nothing left but shreds of human decay. Every molecule of her was coasting between controlling and frenzy. If she acted recklessly, underestimated Dean's capability, she could come out on the loser end.

And while it would be outlandishly easy to twist her hand and snap his neck where he stood, without a single tough on his warm flesh, it wasn't what Azazel had in store for him. She had to keep Dean alive, if she was going to get to Sam. Dean may be untouchable, but he was expendable.

She waged the timing, every slight movement, scrutiznying him, and noticing the knife he decked out. Her lips curled to a distracting smirk, using her smoothness as intimidation. Truthfully, Justice hadn't known what to expect. If the stories were true she should be shitting her pants. Dean fought many demons and won in the end. She hadn't known what made him special, and perhaps it was nothing at all. Just plain luck.

She considered the odds, weighed out the differences, but felt disgusted giving into her conspiracy theories. She'd never been the coincidence type. She had been a slayer in a past life. Everything was inheirted on fate. She thrived on it. It's what kept her motivated.

All the fucked up things in her life, down to the alcoholic mother who shared more time with her countless boyfriends then her own daughter, was all built on fate. A destiny. She was destined to be a screw up, whore, slayer ( obviously ), and now a demon.

While the possibilities seemed over thought, what she planned on doing was simple. Obviously, she was past her original plan. Flirtation seemed pointless with a man like Dean. He would suspect something the moment she asked for a second date. She figured she'd go balls out, give him a scare, maybe threaten to kill Sam to pump information out of him. Tonight was a trial of possibilities.

She would see what made him tick, aside from the obviously brotherly love. He no longer had a father, nor a mother. Azazel had made certain of that. She circled around him, and as she suspected Dean had done well to make sure his back wasn't against her.

That's how backs get stabbed.

She twisted the knife in her hand, but kept her eyes cold stone on Dean Winchester. She wasn't about to distract herself with shiny toys, while Dean searched for the opportunity to win the first round. She had a feeling there would be several between them.

The cocky act was starting to get old. She never favored much for ego maniacs. It was a turn off.

"I just want to know one thing...are you a talker? Because I like it when I'm just stabbing along and all they do is talk talk talk talktalk through the entire thing. Real big turn on."

She raised her upper lip and viciously slammed her arm against him, and pushed him against the brick wall, stucco granite falling to the concrete ground around them. "That's good. I like a guy who's a good listener," she spoke, raising the knife to his throat. "I'm not being too rough am I? Cause I heard I have boundary issues."

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slaughters
2009-04-19 09:43 pm UTC (link)

It sounded like how most demons thought when it came to him. Though he was far more than certain that when it came to demons? The ones set with an agenda were usually the ones that had a trial and error when it came to fighting them. It was never going to be the first try with them. But they all usually went down...in a blaze of glory. Dean was surprised he'd even fought through and survived half the stuff he did. He wasn't incapable he just learned through trial and error. Even though trial and error ended up putting him in the hospital in most cases there was nothing bad to that. He ended up bouncing back sooner or later anyway.

The hunter's senses were flaring up all the more as the woman circled around him. He didn't trust anything that was coming off of her and for good reason too. There was nothing good from a woman who seemed to know her way around a knife. Just as there was nothing good from a woman that knew her way around any sort of weapon. Just because it made him look bad by the end of it. He didn't want to lose any 'I'm a man' points just because some woman could best him at a knife fight. That much screamed true for everything he put to his life.

Dean didn't know of who was pulling her strings. Otherwise he'd throw himself at her a long time ago and try to rip her voicebox out from her mouth. It was the sort of angry bitterness that made his stomach twist in divine hatred towards those who associated themselves with the likes of the Yellow-Eyed Demon. It's why for once he wasn't trying to flirt with the pretty demon woman. He was just glaring at her from where he was. But despite everything he hadn't said anything that would have gotten him in really big trouble but Dean was like that in most ways. It took a lot to get him to talk.

Especially when it came to his brother. He'd rather just die then give information on Sam just as he'd rather die then allow himself to be the bait for his brother's grand destiny to go into effect. He dealt with enough of that just on a day to day basis with the regular cast of characters that he didn't need to believe that there were more joining their party. But demons were like cockaroaches--where there was one there were many hiding away from sight. They just tended to scurry out occasionally when they got bored of hiding in the shadows. Like Demon Bitch Barbie who had him pinned against the brick wall now. A rough growl leaving him as his brow's rose a bit, pursing his lips together.

"I wouldn't say so...I like it rough. It makes it better when I get to do my victory dance over your corpse." He smirked, gritting his teeth when the cool blade brushed against his throat and being more uncomfortable then he would have liked. It was situations like this that didn't give him a chance to analyze everything completely because he was sure the demon would rather just slice his throat and be glad she bagged herself a Winchester. He could imagine his head would make an excellent conversation piece if she decided to keep a trophy before bringing his knee up against her abdomen and pushing the petite woman away from him before holding his knife out.

Dean saw a bit red as he went to tackle her, just working to try and get the knife out of her grip even though it still was not a fair fight. She was a demon. They had certain...attributes that resulted in getting his ass kicked in a plethora of different ways.

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immorality
2009-04-19 10:28 pm UTC (link)

Two bodies fought against the alley, eventually they met pavement, and she was grinding underneath Dean. A swift buck of her hips, and she was the victor on top.

At some point, Dean must of snatched her weapon and disposed of it off to the side, because she no longer held the knife in her hand. A grunt expelled from her lips, thighs tightening viciously around Dean's waist, struggling to keep him in captivity. Five creamy digits curled into a fist, dashing forward and connecting with Dean's jaw. She repeated this a couple of times enough to cause some collateral damage.

"Look at all the pretty colors," she grinned.

Crimson blood caked her knuckles, and when she rose touch her nostril division, she released her nose was bleeding, too. It hadn't even hurt, but she could feel her her human body aching.

This plan had been way off base. She was meant to play nice, but she never had been one for taking orders. Breaking the rules was in her nature. The moment she saw Dean's face she wanted to kill him. She hadn't known him from Adam, but murder was in her blood. Always had been. She wanted his head on a pike for all to see.

Azazel wouldn't be too upset if she had killed him. It was Sam he wanted. She had a feeling Sam wouldn't be any more cooperative then Dean. Maybe torture wasn't a bad option to consider. These boys dealt with demons every day. They needed a little incentive if she was going to shovel out any information from them. She liked to think torturing Buffy with Angelus had earned her a little insight on masochism. If she had her trusty night she would carve her name into Dean's arm right now just for kicks.

A little something to remember her by.

Of course, she was weaponless now and had to rely on physical combat. She frowned at that thought. Her fun was being spoiled every minute that went by. What was torture without her toys? She hadn't been fighting as much anymore, and that gave Dean the chance to be on top. Her breathing hitched, and she tried to regain her composure. "Relax, baby. If I wanted you dead I would of done it by now." She wiggled her body, laughing in his face.

"I'm more interested in that brother of yours," she breathed. "Sammy." his name slipped from her lips maliciously, a grin to expose the dirty thoughts in her mind. She may have to keep Sam alive, but that didn't mean she hadn't planned on having some of her own fun while at it. "Where is little brother these days?"

She hadn't expected a response. Azazel told her it wouldn't be easy to deal with Dean, but she like to think she could be very persuasive.

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slaughters
2009-04-21 03:00 pm UTC (link)

He didn't really like the 'being on the beaten up' end of the fight, pain steaming through his body from his jaw. It was a pain that he was, honestly, used too. He was used to beating off the demons and getting broken and battered as a result of the fights that ensued. He struggled, of course. He wouldn't be Dean Winchester if he didn't fight back. He wouldn't be a good hunter if he didn't hunt. He barely moved when she punched him over and over again after a while. Inwardly rolling his eyes. He was getting used to the things the psycho said as just...things that could be said as retorts usually cut off when the bitch punched him over and over again.

He hadn't known of any plans except for the plans she ruined when it came to the slut he'd been with earlier on in the night. He wished that he could go back to the obvious virgin and not being 'owned' by the demon who seemed to find it amusing that he bled as pretty as he did. He was taking it as the best compliment he'd had all night before getting out from underneath the bitch and glaring down at her. Blood rolling down his chin before giving a dark smirk. Sure, he had no ideas of torturing the demon. He just wanted to kill the bitch and get it over with. He was more than aware that he had a one track mind right now--the string of thoughts of 'die bitch die' deep in his mind were something that he only thought of when the person was that bad.

She was that bad. He let the laughing in his face roll off his back before gritting his teeth together. "I don't doubt it." He flexed his fist a bit, his teeth stained with the blood that filled in his mouth but he avoided spitting it out just before before she finally spoke again and his fist collided with her face. There was nothing that the demons wanted that had anything to do other than with his little brother. The mention of Sam just sort of told him exactly what he wanted to know when it came to 'why she was there' or if there was anyone pulling her strings.

He clicked his tongue before punching her again, lips turning into a bit of snarl curl. "You just answered one of my many questions. Now tell me...do you like long walks on the beach too? Because if so you might just be my soul mate, princess." He forced a smile on his face before reaching over and twirling the blade in his hand before shoving the knife into her chest, feeling it only be slowed by the layers of muscle that the demon's body had occupied. He pushed himself away from the demon, knowing just as well that the knife wouldn't do a damn thing but it would make her hurt like he wanted her to hurt.

Dean pushed himself to his feet, kicking her once again and giving her a smile. "You caught me on a 'I don't give a damn' moment. Sucks to be you, huh?" He gave a little shrug before grabbing his own knife on the ground, not turning his back on her before watching her intently as if she could coil up and attack him. For all intents and purposes she could and he wouldn't be able to stop half the actions she threw at him. But it didn't mean that he wouldn't try when it came to fighting a demon.

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lethalis
2009-04-22 07:38 am UTC (link)

Somewhere in between the bickering, she been recoiling on the ground, while staring up at Dean. She wrapped her arm around her stomach, and glared over at them an hovering above her. She hadn't expect much of a fight from Dean. For a human for knew he was way around a battle. It would make things so much simpler to kill him now and end this insanity, but she didn't want to risk forfeiting her own life as well. She knew what Azazel was capable of, and if she went behind his word he would kill her - again.

She pushed herself off the ground, cowering her eyes around the alley for the most convenient exist. There was a fire escape, but exiting on the opposite end of the alley was safer. Dean didn't seem like the type who would let her go easily. After all, she just threatened him with a knife and dangle the conception of meeting his brother. She knew he would do everything in his power to keep that from happening, even if he would need a devil's trap and an exorcism to do it. She curled her fingers into her fist, and used all her strength to upper cut him under his chin and rotated her heels to collide her boot against his chest, hoping it was enough to knock him back on the ground. "Be seeing ya." She grinned, and dodged out of the alley while she still had her dignity.

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perkynipples
2009-04-22 10:45 am UTC (link)

Dean was amazing like that. He wouldn't deny it if someone asked just as he wouldn't deny the fact his ass just got kicked by a girl. Or he would and pretend that nothing happened and everything was the same. Be it as it were--he was still someone who played a role in the on-going battle between good and evil. He was still someone who mattered regardless of what could be rubbed in his face contrary to thought. The 'you're useless' speeches that most tended to throw at him didn't own up to the fact that he did play a part in insuring that the world lived on for another day. That demons didn't win and good people didn't die unless it was for their cause.

Sure that didn't play a part to the violence between humans but Dean was a hunter. Not a miracle worker. He was sure he wasn't going to run around Cleveland wearing tights with a cape flowing behind him anytime soon. It was ridiculous to think that; that he would have that great of an impact. If anything--he was just lucky knowing he saved a handful rather than the world. It was his only saving grace in the world that seemed to be endlessly against everything that he did in life. After all, it had never been his world to begin with. Hunting was something that he was born to do. Being normal, however, was not.

Dean's jaw snapped shut when she punched him in the jaw before he could register anything that was happening it was her boot against his chest and he was being sent to the ground with a small groan escaping his lips. The elder of the Winchester brother's remaining still on the ground even while he listened to her run off. Dean stayed put for a moment, wrinkling his face before sitting up and tilting his head to the side. "What a bitch." He could already tell it wasn't the last time he would see her--but he wished that it wasn't. He didn't exactly get up in record time to chase after her. Instead he went for grabbing his knife and sheathing it; moving slowly as he gathered his wits before limping back to the Impala for some much needed rest and to lick his wounds instead of seek professional help. He just got punched a lot so it wouldn't matter any.

Dean took in a deep breath as the Impala sank a bit against his weight and he revved up the engine. He wanted to kill her. But he doubted it would happen, sad to say.

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