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Dean Winchester hugs baby trees (withgunsdrawn) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2011-10-11 23:35:00

Entry tags:

anna milton, dean winchester

Who? Dean & Anna
What? Dreamstalker conversations.
Where? Dean's head/dream.
When? Tonight!
Rating? Vaguely high for helldreams, but otherwise probably not bad.

One arm draped over Juliet’s waist, the other tucked up under his pillow, fingers just touching the cool metal of the gun there (not a knife, not anymore; knives blended too seamlessly with his dreams, kept him in the dream too long and put risks in place he didn’t want to take - a gun was safer, clip beside it, safety on anyway, and the blunt edges couldn’t do much damage if he did keep dreaming too long), Dean was asleep faster than he usually was. This whole vacation thing, it made sleeping easier - pointedly not thinking about things like Lucifer, the end of the world, how close he kept coming to losing everyone that mattered... not thinking about any of those things, it helped. He knew it couldn’t last forever, but while it lasted, he was trying to enjoy it.

When he slept, his dreams were still what they always seemed to be, though. Hell. Today, apparently, he wasn’t the one with the knife in his hand - it was back on the rack with him, being carved and filleted and shredded, asked that one question over and over the whole time.

Do you want it to stop, Dean?

Part of him was distantly aware that this wasn’t real - that he was only dreaming, that in reality he was out of hell, he was safe and happy as he ever got, he had his family, he had Juliet beside him, and none of this was real, this wasn’t really happening now. That part of him was drowned out, though, smothered and buried under hell pain torture pleasemakeitstop please yes I'll do it whateveryouwantplease, so at first when everything went still and quiet, when the pain stopped, all he felt was relief, followed quickly by a sick sense that something worse was going to happen.

Sitting on the bloody floor where the rack used to be, he almost didn’t notice or recognize the red-headed angel standing there. When he did, it clarified that this was a dream (although if he was dreaming about being rescued from Hell by an angel, why wasn’t it Cas? Whatever, facts didn’t have to be exact, in dreams), not the real Hell - angels don’t just walk into hell, not like this. He couldn’t remember Castiel’s rescue, not exactly, but he knew there was a hell of a lot more light involved.

“...uh. Hi?” Dean picked at the hem of his blood-wet shirt and scowled, more than a little embarrassed to be caught dreaming this way, after all this time; he should be over Hell by now, shouldn’t he? A year (two, if you counted the year or so he'd forgotten) later, shouldn't he be dreaming about other things most nights, by now? “Am I just dreaming, or is this an angel-stalking?”

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cadoexvenia
2011-10-12 05:26 am UTC (link)

She shouldn't have been surprised that Dean dreamed about hell. It seemed like the sort of place that consumed you if this was anything to go by. And then of course she only had to look at Crowley to see where a dream like this led. Before, she would have changed things. Made things better, made him stronger by shaping his dream to something more pleasant but she didn't have the power to spare on something like that and she knew it. Not since she'd given herself to a demon. Oh she should have known it would be the start of a decline but she'd been so very arrogant and she'd believed that she was the angel that could fight it. That God, or whoever held the threads of their grace would understand.

They did not.

Dean was lying with the woman, Juliet. And what was she, some police woman from a different world. No one that could understand the gravity of what Dean went through daily. But here she was all the same. In his bed, but not in his dreams. It was Anna that could get to him in here, and maybe that was the key. Maybe the only way to pull herself away from demons and sin was...to find a new distraction.

Oh she knew he was in love, and she knew pulling herself away from the King of the Crossroads would not be easy. He knew her all too well for that. Knew just how to turn her head, They'd spent a good month on that island, just ignoring the world and its problems. The place had been terrorized by a version of Sam Winchester that was cruel and cold and psychotic and Anna could have helped, Maybe Crowley could even have helped. But they had not, and Anna had known she needed to do something.

"I wanted to talk to you and this seemed like the best way to do it without disrupting your vacation." she explained. She couldn't change the dream but she could move him away from the rack, so even if they were having this conversation in hell it didn't seem as oppressive. "I wish you could remember me. The way I remember you I mean. I could help you remember that, if you wanted I mean, we're in your dream. I could share those memories." It would hurt a little, but it was for the greater reward of course.

"It would be a nicer dream than this one"

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withgunsdrawn
2011-10-12 01:13 pm UTC (link)

Dean ran a hand up through his hair - sending it spiking, sticky with blood. There was no part of him that wasn’t currently at least streaked in it, and he was just grateful that this time his wounds had sealed up. “So, dream-stalking is better than... texting? Board messages?” His tone wasn’t irritable, even though the words sounded like it should be - it was almost amused; he wasn’t actually all that bothered, really. Sure, he’d have rathered not have anyone see these dreams, but it could have been worse. “You angels are weird.”

>"I wish you could remember me. The way I remember you I mean. I could help you remember that, if you wanted I mean, we're in your dream. I could share those memories."

For a moment, Dean wasn’t entirely sure what she meant. She could get rid of the whole amnesia thing? Why hadn’t she said something before, then? Not that he wanted everything back - as frustrating as it was not knowing what had happened, constant little differences in Sam and in the world that he was supposed to have seen change, he also knew that a lot of what happened had been crap. Sam had acted like him not knowing might have been easier on him - and, hell, at this point Dean was willing to do a whole lot of things that maybe weren’t the best, but they made things easier.

>"It would be a nicer dream than this one"

...and then he got what she was saying, what she was really saying, and he looked up at her in confusion. “...what?” It didn’t seem to make any sense, really - why would an angel want to give him back a specific part of his memory, a memory he didn’t actually need and would be really freakin’ awkward...? Something didn’t sit right with Dean about this. He didn’t think the angel was, like, in love with him or anything, so why was she trying to put something like that back in his head? Having a memory of another woman wasn’t exactly something he could avoid - he’d been with way too many, for that, after all - but getting one back that he didn’t remember would be like creating a new one all over again, and that would be... uncomfortably like screwing around behind Jules’ back.

He didn’t say any of that, of course - instead, he just sort of laughed, leaning back on his hands (blood-slick floor under his palms, his blood, others’ blood, he didn’t know what was what anymore). “I swear, that’s like the most awkward thing anyone’s asked of me. Well, lately... Doesn’t beat the time some chick tried to pick me and Sam up at the same time, ‘couple years back, but it’s close. Why?”

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cadoexvenia
2011-10-14 08:14 am UTC (link)

Now there was the question of the century. Why? Why would she want to give Dean all the memories of the year he'd lost. The things he'd seen, the things they'd done together. And he was right of course, she was far from in love with him. She supposed it was more than showing him them together. It was a lot of things all rolled into one. It was knowing that once, he'd viewed her as something good, something to be relied upon. Perhaps even a friend, just like Cas was. And while he'd been rebuilding a friendship with Castiel, she herself had been running around the Earth with the King of the Crossroads and loosing everything that she'd once held dear just because Crowley smiled at her. What was wrong with her?

"I wanted you to remember me Dean. Properly, like people should remember me. The Angel of the Lord, helping you, the girl, lost and scared but with friends like you and Sam helping me through." Not Ruby of course, her lies still stung at the angel. For all Crowley was, he'd never been anything less than honest with her and she appreciated that more than she ever thought she could have.

"Its not just...that night and those feelings, even though it really did mean something to me at the time. It's everything I was. And I'm not that now, I'm losing that. It's being pulled away from me bit by bit and its a wrench in my soul every time I fall a little further. When I did it first, it was quick. I had no memory of being who I was, but when its not willing, its slow. Its painful. It's eternal. And you were one of the first people to look at me and see past the life I'd built for myself and I want someone to look at me like that again. So I want to give you the year back. I want my friend back."

She could never tell him about Crowley, any more than she could ever tell Castiel. They'd be so disgusted with her, they'd try to kill him. Neither was an outcome Anna wanted.

And yes, angels were weird. Yes, she was stalking his dreams because she knew it was the best and most undetectable way to do this. She needed to do it though, she had to.

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withgunsdrawn
2011-11-03 02:12 am UTC (link)

[ooc: ooooo super delayed post is super delayed, but, uh... here you go? <3!]

He almost said yes.

Not because he wanted to remember - not for himself, at least, because he had finally gotten to the point where he genuinely didn’t care what had happened in the past, he was all right moving forward where he was, missing year or not. He was okay with the things he knew, and the gaps were starting not to be much of an issue anymore. But... she seemed to be distressed, seemed like she really wanted him to remember, and he almost agreed, for her sake. It would help her, wouldn’t it? Having someone remember her as she was, that would help...

But he didn’t want there to be any unpleasant surprises, anything someone hadn’t told him - irrelevant or not - that he would get upset about. Because he would - he knew himself well enough by now to know that sometimes, yeah, he got irrational about stupid shit that really didn’t matter, little secrets that don’t mean anything now, have no effect on him whatsoever, but if he found out he would be furious. He didn’t want there to be anything that would make things bad, for him or for Sam or Jules or Mom, or anyone else, either.

“I can’t,” he responded, head tipping to one side slightly, offering an apologetic, sympathetic frown, “I’m sorry, Anna, I am. For... all of this. You and Cas falling, that’s on me.” It was, too - if he had just... held on, not broken, none of this would have happened. If he had figured out how to stop Lucifer sooner, none of this would be happening now. He shifted - uncomfortable with sitting on the ground looking up at her, uncomfortable here in this conversation in his dream, uncomfortable with the blood all over and the way the red of her hair made him remember a blond woman he’d gotten on the rack, torn her to pieces until she was so drenched in her own blood her hair was that same shade.

“We are friends, though, I mean,” he added, after he pushed the memory away (pushed it down deep, so it wouldn’t pop back up strong enough to turn into a dream-fragment right here in front of the angel), “I don’t need a random year’s memories back to know that. You saved my life, and all that...” He tried not to remember that - the Killiks, the poison, how sure he was that dying would make everything okay for everyone else; it was hard not to remember, hard not to think about it.

“I mean, if there’s anything else I can do, I owe you, for that - just, it can’t be this.”

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cadoexvenia
2011-11-03 03:34 am UTC (link)

The sad fact was, it was, just this. She needed him to understand her, she needed to know from him, that once she'd been a shining beautiful thing, that once, she'd been there for him. That once he'd needed her. But he had no memory of that night, of their time together and he didn't want it back. He'd made it very clear. So there'd be no affirmation for the angel who was slowly losing herself in her own mistakes. She was falling, because of a demon, because of the King of the Crossroads of all things, and it was hard to fathom how it could ever get any worse than that.

But Anna knew it could.

"Its not because of you Dean. Not me anyway. There are reasons why I'm falling. Things I've done that maybe I could have told you if you'd taken the memories back, but I can't, not like this, you'd never understand it. And I'm sorry I did things this way. I'm sorry I came in here. I have no right. It's just what it is. It's just how I thought it had to be. You're with her out there. You're happy. And I'm not gonna do anything to disrupt that, you have a right to be happy. More than most of us do."

He was guilty, he felt so much guilt, over her, over Castiel. Over Sam, over every single person in his life. For breaking in the pit, but Anna couldn't blame him. She'd never blame him, and she could see how uncomfortable all this was making the Hunter.

"I wish you'd dream easier dreams, I wish this was a refuge for you. But those memories you're holding on to, I can't take those away without destroying another part of you. You've lost enough of your memory already. So all I can do is hope that one day the guilt won't drag you down so much. It shouldn't. No one blames you Dean. No one else could have lasted as long as you did down there and lived with any measure of focus or sanity. You're strong, you're the strong one." And she'd always believe that, even if she'd come here for an entirely different purpose maybe she could help Dean find his way back.

"I'll go if you want, you can try and get some proper sleep. But I want you to know, none of this is on you, nothing with me, or with Cas. You focus on you and yours and we'll...it'll be fine. Okay? I promise"

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