Dean Winchester (i_soldieron) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2011-03-11 16:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | castiel, dean winchester |
Just a little good news never hurt (Castiel)
Dean was meeting all sorts of interesting types. So far, he had met a fishnet wearing superhero, a girl who knew him from before (whatever that was supposed to mean), a girl who had some major emotional and apparently mutant (yeah) issues, a demon he'd rather see dead, and an angel he knew should be dead. He was having one grab bag hell of a time. He'd yet to find his baby, and he was getting a little tired of not having answers, not even a little one. He still hadn't been able to get in touch with Sam and Bobby, meaning he couldn't even get help by phoning a friend. He didn't even want to consider getting help from the audience, as if he were on some tv show. Who'd watch a show based on his life anyway?
He grunted as he settled down on the Magic Fingers bed; he'd almost given up on buying alcohol anywhere that wasn't a bar, but it seemed he was getting lucky today. The Blue Label had been pretty damn cheap considering, and he was going to enjoy getting drunk off something that usually cost over two hundred dollars. Of course, it did make him miss everyone. Drink to remember, drink to forget.
He turned on the tv for some white noise, dropped a few quarters into the machine, took a sip of whisky, and closed his eyes. Or that had been the plan. There was a sound of gears grinding followed by the not so pleasant smell of smoke. He got out off the bed in time to watch part of the bed catch fire; he would have saved the bottle for later, but the fire, that seemed to have a mind of its own, moved from bed to bottle.
"You gotta be kidding-" He dove for cover as the glass exploded. There was no way the fire was hot enough for that, even if he had spilled some from his glass as he got out off the bed. No. He sat up, dusting some of the glass off that had managed to hit him.
"Gabriel! You son of a bitch!" Yeah, that was going to get the Trickster's attention. "I'm going to shove that...then you're..and.." He got to his feet, aggravated enough that he couldn't finish his sentences. Then an idea hit him; he knew it was a bad idea, but he didn't see what the harm was.
"Oh, Castiel," Dean put his hands together, somewhat prayer like. He even closed his eyes. "What the hell kind of name is that? Get your feathered ass here before I go crazy, if I'm not already, and hurt someone." Dean rolled his eyes. "Look, ma..an..look, if you're around." He looked up at the ceiling. "If you or whoever else can hear me hears me, do a guy a favor and show up? Even if it is you, Gabriel." Dean took a lean against the room's table and started picking out the rest of the glass from his clothes, checking for any bad cuts. Then looked up again as if he were remembering something. "Oh, right. Amen."
"Fuckin' dickheads." Dean really didn't think anyone would show. He'd tried Castiel a few times, why should it work now?