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Dean Winchester (hellsboy) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,

It was true. Dean was far from afraid. When his mind went into auto-pilot on a hunt, there was very little fear until perhaps he was face to face with exactly what the cause of everything happened to be. Even then, though, he wasn't always afraid of what he hunted. Sometimes it was righteous anger that fueled his fights and take downs. He had a lot of that these days. The Weevils. The sirens. The lack of sleep. Whatever it was that had stopped her in mid-fuck to go investigate a noise. Now, instead of having a release of tension and frustration he was full of both. His cock throbbed inside his pants, reminding him of what had almost been. It was enough to make him want to yell at the ceiling.

Instead, still not looking back at Shannon because he did not want her to see the expression on his face, he held out his hand in a gesture meant to beckon her closer to the door. He kept his eyes on the hallway and stepped out into it, his gaze sweeping back and forth in the dim light. He paused again to liste. Still nothing. He wanted to make sure she saw that there was nothing there. Not a fucking thing.

He wasn't exactly sure why he felt so mad right now. It was like adrenaline pumping through his system. Especially when she asked him to just take her home. Yeah, he thought. Sure, I'll take you home, back to Sam. Why not? He's who you wanted to be with anyway."

Out loud he simply muttered, "Okay. I'll take you back to the museum. Just be careful, there's a bunch of boxes on the left side of this hall over here." He glanced back over his shoulder at her then to see if she was following and how close. She still looked like she was about to run and hide somewhere. Like she thought something might jump out of the darkness at them. He still heard nothing. Well it was onward and upward now. Back to the museum like nothing had happened. And he was going to fucking sleep if it killed him. This emo shit was over. He was definitely not going to care about it anymore.