likely_good (likely_good) wrote in mandalus, @ 2013-02-08 00:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | dean winchester |
text᠉ audio ᠉ video | Feb 8th
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Fcukthss.
[After the poor attempt at texting, the audio clicks on first, for a very loudly spoken set of words.]
--the Hell is even goin' on, can't even hear myself, I swear to God... [A loud thud comes and it'd be easy enough to guess Dean just fell over.] Son of a bitch! [Then finally, after a series of beeps, the video flickers on to show Dean, slumped on the floor of the panic room, his eyes wide and glassy, no real focus in them, and the angle off, the shot too close to his face.]
God damn. I don't even know if this is recordin', but I'm blind and deaf. This is some God damn bullshit. Who the Hell do you people think I am, Helen Keller? Where the Hell am I? Who the fuck did this to me? I better get some damn help here, or I'm gonna just grab my gun and start firin'. And it's god damn cold!
[Alright, so someone's a little angry about being brought back missing two senses, and more than that his face shows the panic, because he has no chance to hide it now. He can't even try to calm down at the moment, especially not knowing where his brother is, or if Sam's even alive.]
Where's Sam? Sammy, if you-- if you made it back, I could really use some help, man. [Of course, not being able to hear himself, Dean doesn't hear the way his voice shakes a little with the distress he feels, but the vibration in his throat is enough to make him go quiet for a long moment in which he just tries to breathe calmly.]
Cas? Dude, seriously, where did you put me? Is Selina still in the hospital? Did Jo make it out or are we still at war? You know what, screw this. [He's scrambling to his feet and trying to feel his way out of the room, the phone moving around enough to show he's shirtless.] God damn, this is stupid. [At that moment, Dean unintentionally walks into a door frame, making a pained noise and stepping back, blood dripping from his nose.] Son of a bitch!
[He just steps back a few more paces and crouches, patting around for the floor and once he feels it he sits down, resting his back against the cot in the center of the panic room.] Those hostages better appreciate this bullshit. [He huffs a bit, trying to focus on being angry rather than unnerved.] It's kinda weird not bein' able to hear or see. Kinda like a bad trip, only without the fun part of getting high in the first place. [And Dean is going to rely on rambling for the next week, but for another few moments he goes quiet again, his blind gaze searching around him for nothing. He can't even hear if someone is coming to get him. He's hasn't felt this vulnerable in a very long time.
His gaze lowers to stare at nothing in particular, and his hands tremble a little, shaking the phone slightly. When he finally speaks again, his voice is rough, heavy with emotions he doesn't want to show, and his expression has turned into a scowl.] You better've made it back, Sammy. Come help me, dude... [His jaw tenses and there's a slight quiver to his lower lip before he fumbles with the phone and tosses it at the wall, causing it to shut off. He'll grab a gun from the rack if he can damn well find it...]