InsaneJournal

So, was it normal to feel like you ought to be doing something important. Something really important. Something important like breathing. Important like blinking. Dean.2 was having a hard time with this inner drive to go do something and it made him restless. He'd started off in the big house outside of town where he'd compulsively collected some of the cans, using his jacket like a sack. He knew he should hate to be seen in the pink sweatshirt; but, he kind of enjoyed it.

It hadn't been too long a walk from the house to the museum where he knew he'd find a whole ton of people. It was like the place had turned into Mecca or something.

Pushing open the door Dean.2 looked around with a wide grin. "Honey, I'm home!" he called, hoping he'd see people come out of the woodwork sooner or later, he was feeling sort of lonely. "Oh, and I've got some eats."