Dean Winchester (boundtothehunt) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2019-07-09 16:55:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !closed, !completed gdoc, !log, ~2019 july, ~25 points, ~~dean winchester (boundtothehunt), ~~~~ sara lance (thecanary) |
Who: Sara Lance and Dean Winchester
What: Mourning together
When: Tuesday
Where: Their house
Warnings: None
Status: Closed/Complete gdoc
The cruise was an interesting experience. Not necessarily one that Sara would care to repeat, though she could genuinely say she enjoyed most of it. Returning from the cruise, on the other hand, was less than pleasant since a fair number of people hadn’t made the return trip. One of them was Alex, which made her equal parts sad for the loss and glad that they’d hooked up on the trip.
Sam’s disappearance was a bit more difficult to process. They’d split more than a year ago and Sara wasn’t pining away after him or anything, but he was someone she still cared about and it was weird knowing he wasn’t around. More importantly, she knew that Dean was struggling with it and hated that there was no way to make things better for him.
She was going to try though, so she took the night off from the club, and came home with a bottle of really good whiskey, some burgers, and pie. Other than sex, it should hit all of Dean’s coping mechanisms. She’d leave that one to Lena.
“Get your ass down here, Winchester,” she called.
***
Dean was completely not coping at all. He never did well without his brother, lost his mind and went off the rails or shut down. He was doing the latter now. He’d gotten badly drunk and wandered home the first night, one of the few times he’d been aware he was too drunk to drive and that was saying something. Dean usually existed in a state of half cut.
He hadn’t really talked to anyone about it since, just spent his time alone. Sure, he and Sam hadn’t been attached at the hip in Madison Valley the way they’d been at home, but Dean had always had his brother right there. He’d always known he was safe. Now, he knew the exact opposite.
Sara’s voice drew him out into the living room, looking only half as rough as he felt. “What?”
He wasn’t really in the mood for being cheered up.
***
“You need to eat,” she said.
Sara wasn’t going to try to cheer him up. She knew that was a lost cause. But she wasn’t going to let him wallow in self pity on his own. They could wallow together. With food and booze. They weren’t necessarily healthy coping mechanisms, but they worked for the two of them.
“Sit.” She waited for him to get comfortable on the sofa and shoved a grease-stained paper bag at him, filled with several Hinkleburgers and an order of fries.
***
“What are you, my mother?” Dean grumbled even as he did was told and sat down. It was a stupid comment to make. His mother had been in town for a while, but Dean was still keeping a distance. She’d never given any indications she wanted a relationship and that hurt so he didn’t try either. He wasn’t like Sam. He didn’t just force his way into things and if the people from his world, his family, wanted him they knew where to find him.
“I’d rather drink,” he noted, fishing a fry out of the bag Sara placed in his lap, popping it into his mouth before just holding his hand out for the bottle he spotted. “Give that here.” The amount he’d been drinking lately was definitely unhealthy but he knew he could at least trust Sara not to judge him about that. There weren’t a lot of people he could say that about.
***
Sara had no room to judge anyone for drinking too much nor did she stand on ceremony so there was no need to get glasses. She opened the bottle, took a swig from it, and then handed it over to Dean.
“You need something to soak up the booze,” she said with a shrug, kicking off her shoes and moving to sit next to him. They weren’t particularly tactile friends and she chose to sit a bit closer than normal so her leg bumped his.
It wasn’t like she was going to ask him how he was feeling or anything. That would be a stupid question. Instead, she unwrapped a burger and took a large bite.
***
“That’s quitter talk right there,” Dean said simply before taking a long drink from the bottle. He was looking to feel better and being drunk seemed like a good way to go about it. Soaking up the alcohol was only going to slow things down and if he got too sober he was going to lose it. He was barely holding it together as it was.
He didn’t miss that she sat closer than usual, and if it had been anyone else he’d recently lost he might have accepted the gesture. Not now. Not when it was Sam. He and his brother had been through too much for this to ever be close to okay. Dean shifted slightly, putting a bit more space between them and just took another drink.
“Thanks for the grub.” That he didn’t really feel much like eating.
***
When he shifted away, Sara didn’t react. She understood, remembered what it was like when her father had to tell her that Laurel was gone, knew that nothing could lessen the pain of losing a sibling.
“Of course,” she said. “Figured you’d never turn down burgers.” She paused. “There’s also pie.” The day that Dean turned down pie was the true apocalypse.
***
The worst part about it all was that it wasn’t final. It wasn’t like Sam had died and Dean couldn’t make the deal to get him back again. He could come and go and be a different person and Dean couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He hated that. He hated having to sit idle and wait and see what happened.
“Now that’ll keep for the inevitable hangover.” Dean did smile a little, though, wasn’t turning it down so much as saving it for when he really needed it. His friends really had paid attention and learned a thing or two about what made him happy, obviously weren’t shy about putting it to good use when he needed it.
Not that he was going to admit to needing it. Ever. He was going to keep trying to pretend everything was fine.
***
He could pretend all he wanted. Sara wouldn’t call him on it, but she also wasn’t going to believe it. Still, she understood that he wasn’t the type to talk about his feelings, or even really allow himself to feel those feelings, so she didn’t push, would be there in quiet and supportive ways.
Like with food and booze.
“Can’t have a hangover if you keep drinking,” she pointed out.
***
“That’s the kind of enthusiasm I’m looking for,” Dean encouraged. And that was why Sara made such a good friend for him. He didn’t need things like sympathy, didn’t need someone doting on him or trying to make him feel better when there was nothing that could. His brother was gone, knowing this place wouldn’t come back. Dean wasn’t holding out hope.
He never really held out hope. It wasn’t his style.
Lifting the bottle in a little salute he took another long drink before handing it back to her.
***
“Took the night off, so I can drink with you,” she said. “I’ll even call Lena if you want to get laid.”
Sara wasn’t about to make that offer herself. They didn’t have that kind of relationship.
***
Dean cast a sideways glance at her, bit back snapping that he didn’t need to be babysat, it wasn’t like he could do anything stupid if he wanted to around here, instead just nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
He was going to be drinking anyway, enough that he wouldn’t even think about getting laid if he had his choice.
***
Neither of them needed to be babysat, but it was easier for Sara to focus her attention on Dean than to deal with her own complex emotions about Sam being gone. Drinking with him meant she didn’t have to think or talk about her feelings either.
“Cheers,” she said, taking another drink from the bottle and passing it back to him.
***
Not thinking and not dealing was exactly the way Dean wanted to approach the whole thing. He wanted distance from the people who meant the most to him and he wanted to grieve in his own way. He’d cried into a bottle and he was staying right inside several more until it didn’t hurt anymore.
Until he drank himself into not hurting anymore.
At the rate he was going he might end up dead before then.
Dean took the bottle back and stayed silent, picking a little at his food but not really enjoying it enough to eat properly.