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Dean Winchester hugs baby trees ([info]withgunsdrawn) wrote in [info]wariscoming,
@ 2013-03-09 00:19:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:dean winchester, juliet o'hara

Who? Dean, Jules, background Rose!
What? Cursebreaking.
Where? Local hospital
When? Tonight, midnightish.
Why? Because.
Warnings? Gratuitous angst, basically. Character (not)death.
Status: Iiiiin progress!


Dean hated hospitals. Even more, he hated sitting vigil for someone who might not make it - and it was worse, still, when even the doctors and the nurses who came in to check on things looked sad and said things like there's nothing we can do. To his credit, Dean had managed not to start yelling or threatening any of them, making them help her. Mostly, that was because he didn't have the energy to get angry, when he was too busy being terrified and already grieving.

She looked completely fine. She wasn't pale or sickly, she wasn't in pain - there was no obvious signs that anything was wrong. She might as well have been sleeping. But the monitors they'd put her on showed her brain activity levels were rapidly going down - pretty soon, there would be nothing left. Maybe they'd put her on life support, they'd said, once the brain shut everything else down - but they had said they weren't sure there would be much point. He'd listened without moving, eyes on Jules and his hand on the railing of her bed, and the knife strapped to his leg felt suddenly heavier and wouldn't leave his mind, but he didn't reach for it and the doctor had left without any reason to kick Dean out of the hospital or call the police.

The police - Dean wanted to go down there, find out what had happened - properly, from everyone who might have been there - maybe run some EMF test, look for sulfur, something. Anything. He wanted this to be something he could fix. If it was just a hunt, it would be easier, he could deal with it - but even if it was, right now, he couldn't leave her. He couldn't even leave her to go help Sam, and if he could have he would have been there because someone was screwing with his family, and he wasn't going to put up with that - but Jules wasn't going to last much longer. He knew that. So he had to stay.

The readout on the monitor dropped a little more.

As Rose was arriving, it dropped even more - completely, nothing left, and it seemed like almost immediately everything else stopped, too. There were alarms going off and nurses and doctors rushing around, and Dean let himself be pushed back, out of the way, while they tried to see what they could do. But eventually they just stopped, too, and someone was calling time of death...

When the flurry of activity had died down, when they'd all left - the medical staff first, to give them some time, and then Rose, after, urging him to say goodbye, as if that was something he could do, as if it was that simple - Dean moved towards Juliet- her body, there was nothing else left, and he was familiar enough with corpses, it wasn't as if he'd never seen a body before - even an important one, Sam or Dad or Adam, it wasn't the first time he'd lost someone that mattered, far from it - even so, he was hesitant to reach out and touch her.

She was still warm, still felt like she was alive, like she should have just been sleeping. He knew she wouldn't be, for long, soon she'd be cold and eventually there would have to be some kind of an announcement, he'd have to tell everyone, and there'd be a pyre, and then, after, he'd have to keep going, because he had Ben, he couldn't afford to just break down, he had to be okay for Ben, and for Sam, and for the whole damn apocalypse, and he just... didn't want to.

Fingers brushing strands of bright hair off her face, Dean fought to find his voice, fought the instinct to just stay quiet, stay still, wait for it to go away. It wasn't going away. Going silent wouldn't help anything. "I love you," he murmured, voice low, "I'm sorry, I should have- I don't know. I should have found something." He withdrew again, for a moment, his head down, tears on his face and his hands in his pockets. His hand brushed something cool and smooth in his pocket and he thought he was going to be sick, tugging the two gold bands from his pocket and turning hem over between his hands. He'd linked them together with a cord, shoved them in a pocket in his jacket months back when he'd meant to ask her-

It would figure this was the jacket he'd grabbed, running out the door to go to her when she'd first been admitted.

"Guess better late than never," there was no humor there, his voice was practically nothing, untying the string, shoving it in his pocket again. He should have asked. For real, not when he was under the influence of some random seal crap, or when they were drunk. He'd waited - it had never seemed like a good time, some level of traumatic always going on around here, and lately everyone and their cousin had been getting engaged, he hadn't wanted her to think he was just doing what everyone else was doing, he'd wanted it to actually matter-

- and now she was dead.

He didn't say anything else, couldn't, really, losing that battle despite his best efforts. He looked at the gold bands again - they were the ones from Vegas, he'd saved them, had meant for it to be kind of a thing, he'd give her this one before the fancy one he'd let her pick out, it didn't really matter what order the rings went in did it? It just mattered that it meant something, and these did. These were special, even if they were plain. He tucked one of the rings into her hand, curling her fingers around it (she was getting colder, stiffer; extremities cooled first, everything else followed), leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips.



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[info]saltypineapple
2013-03-10 05:03 am UTC (link)
From the minute she'd bitten into the apple she had no idea what happened. She couldn't stop it, couldn't stop it. It wasn't a criminal she could threaten. It was nothing. It was poison. She'd felt the chill of it flush through her system before she'd collapsed at the station, then blackness.No dreams of home, no people waiting. She wasn't dead yet. Whatever this was, it was like a state of inbetween. There were no happy memories or warmth, there was just a feeling of emptiness. She had no idea how much time had passed since it didn't matter there in the darkness. It was like her mind was numb. Paralyzed maybe? Oh god had the witch paralyzed her somehow?

Was paralyzing even possible to recover from if the bitch was cold and dead as she felt? And then she heard something. A faint but steady beeping, like a beacon of some kind but it was more hollow than she ever wanted to hear. She focused on it, but she couldn't see where it came from. She could only hear it like an unwanted echo. She couldn't feel anything. Not the chill of the steril place her body was in, not the every day stress of living in the apocalypse. Nothing. The darkness she saw was almost tangible. Was this all that happened? Waiting for eternity after life slipped away like a delicate ribbon lifelessly fluttering away in the wind?

No. This was something else. This was not how it was supposed to be. If they were fighting heaven and hell, heaven should exist? That meant there was still hope. Cas was an Angel. Cas, Dean, Rose. Those names brushed against her ears like a whisper, a far off memory. Then the beeping stopped. The thing that'd kept her tied to that dark world faded away and suddenly she felt the cold. For the first time she felt the chill of death threatening to take her away. She was unarmed and unable to do anything about it.

All she could do was watch as the darkness began to fall away. A figure appeared before her. An image of a woman with golden blond curls in a soft blue dress. Don't be afraid. The hand reached out to her, but she didn't want to take it. It was familiar, but she didn't want anything to do with it. If she took that hand there was no going back and she knew it. She wanted to stay. She wasn't done yet. Was she? Maybe she'd done all she could and Dean was ready to do what he needed, Dean could handle it now. He was stronger than he'd ever been and she knew it. He could face his demons without succumbing to the bottle, he could talk about them. He had come so far. "Mom?" Her voice was quiet. Shaky even, she reached to touch the hand outstretched to her when suddenly everything seemed miles away.

Something had happened. She couldn't reach her anymore. She could barely even see her anymore. The darkness was crumbling away, and her chest felt lighter. The machine echoed in her ears once more. It began to pick up a steady beat again as Dean's lips touched her own. She was suddenly more aware of her surroundings then she'd been in who knew how long. And then at the touch of his hand, her blue eyes opened. Her fingertip brushed his hand. The light around them was blinding. But still she was grateful for it.

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[info]withgunsdrawn
2013-03-10 11:59 pm UTC (link)

Dean didn't really have much choice, when it came to believing in magic and things that couldn't otherwise be explained. It was part of the job - and now that Lawrence was like the crazy capital of the world, there was even more than just hunting-related magic around. But he didn't see it as a generally good thing - sure, sometimes it could be handy, and sometimes it was neutral, but most of the time it was bad. And most of the time, things that happened to Winchesters were bad, too, or at least were destined to end up that way.

So when Juliet started breathing again when he kissed her, Dean Winchester almost hit the floor.

He hadn't had time to make a deal, though it would be a lie to say the thought hadn't crossed his mind (maybe a long one, if he could get Crowley to go for it, give him thirty years, or something, time to have this life before he paid for it), but he hadn't had time to even put the thought into any sort of a plan, so how was she...

"Jules?" He was staring at her, probably looking about as stable as he was feeling, somewhere between distress and panic and happiness and this isn't real, this can't be real, how could this be real?. He felt sick, but he was happy, but he was terrified this wasn't real. Maybe he was cursed, too. "You were-" He can't say dead, he won't say it. She's not dead. She's looking at him and breathing and smiling and she's okay now...

His hands clutch at her - shoulders, arms, touch her face, settle with one at the join where her neck and jaw meet, the other pushing strands of hair back absently, repeatedly, smoothing them away because he doesn't know how to deal with this, doesn't know what to do now but he knows he didn't think he'd get the chance to see her alive again and he's not letting her out of his sight ever again.

"I love you." When he kisses her again, it's a shaky combination of desperation and joy, but no less intense for the paradoxical nature of the blend.

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[info]saltypineapple
2013-03-11 03:32 am UTC (link)
She recognized Dean's touch. His lips and his hands, it didn't matter what it was. She knew it was him. It was him that had brought her back somehow and she knew. "Miss me?" Her voice was barely a whisper. She was still tired, still groggy. How was one all of these things when there wasn't even a traceable illness? Stupid curses. She didn't move much, only tilted her head to the touch of his warm hand and watched him calmly. As if she really only had been sleeping. Blue eyes watching his. "Love you." Voice still soft and full of exhaustion.

She wanted to sleep, but she was afraid. What happened if she closed her eyes and fell back into that place in between? She didn't want to lose him again even temporarily, so the touch she was grateful for. It kept her conscious and focused. It kept her sane in that place she hated so much. The hospital still reminded her of Alastair and his cold dark knife. The basement was just a few levels below them, and it only now registered to her. But Dean was always there to make it better, even now he was there beside her. The first person she saw when she woke. She reached feebly for his hand with her free one and gave him a warm smile.

Nothing would happen this time. He was going to stay there, she was awake again and death wouldn't come. Not this time anyway. Not yet. When he leaned in, she tilted her head softly to the touch to return the kiss. The bed was uncomfortable, and yet in that moment she thought of nothing else. The sound of doctors rushing about in attempt to get her now conscious vital signs and check to see that it wasn't some strange fluke didn't even phase her, it all fell away at his touch. Like they were the only two that mattered and she didn't want it to end.

She wanted to hold him and reassure him that things would be all right now but she couldn't find the strength to move. She could only enjoy his touch. Only rub her fingers gently against his own hand.

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[info]withgunsdrawn
2013-03-20 03:54 am UTC (link)
"Of course I m- Jules," he tries to finish and there's nothing, he can't even say how much he missed her - in the few minutes she'd been gone, he'd already been missing her, been thinking about how he would always miss her, and it had hurt. It still hurts. Don't ever do that to me again, he wants to say, but he just clutches at her silently and shakes his head in disbelief, smile and stricken expression warring against each other, flickering between both at random.

It's mostly a smile, though. She's alive. That's good. That's all he should be focusing on.

Dean stepped back when the doctors reappeared, but he didn't let go of her hand. They could work around him, he wasn't letting go of her again - holding the hand he'd put the ring in - and he squeezed her fingers tighter around it, not too hard, but tightly tnough he knew she'd be able to feel that it was there; his expression was a silent, fond wait. He wanted her to know, wanted to do this properly, but he wasn't going to do this with everyone and their cousin around. It wasn't that he didn't want anyone to know, so much as it was just a more private thing; he had no problem telling anyone he loved Jules, after all, but this was... them. It wasn't everyone. It shouldn't be everyone.

Once they were alone again - though probably not for long, Dean, knew, because Cas and Rose were still around, somewhere, and someone was going to tell them and they'd be coming in to see Jules awake for themselves - he let go of her hand, letting her open it.

"So, my timing is probably crap," he started wryly.

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[info]saltypineapple
2013-03-23 11:34 pm UTC (link)
She wanted to embrace him, she just didn't have the energy to move much more than her head at the moment. Everything felt like a ton of bricks. She could only watch him. Blond wisps of hair falling messily into her eyes. She felt like she'd been hit by a bus, but Dean was there. That was all that mattered. She would no longer have to stick to the darkness and face it alone. It hadn't been terrifying then until the light touched her eyes and she realized how much she wanted to be with him. She could only rest her cheek against his shoulder thanks to the fatigue that threatened.

When the doctors appeared, she tensed. The last experience with hospitals hadn't been so grand. She still had the scars to prove it. At least most of the mental anguish had faded, she no longer hid in her room, she'd even gotten back at the creatures that'd forced her to think she had to. Her fingers laced with Dean's, holding onto him like he was a life line. Above all others she trusted him. She always would. He made her feel safe, even in near death. Somehow she wasn't afraid because he was there beside her. Corny as it sounded, that was what real love felt like.

She was unaware that Rose and Cas were lurking,she was barely aware that anything was going on at all really. Just Dean was talking, and that was all she could focus on without wanting to ay back in bed and fall asleep. She focused on his face as she felt whatever medication they'd decided to give her threaten to take her under again. She didn't want to sleep. Not now. Not now that they were together again.

Even through the doctors that scrambled about checking vitals, making sure it wasn't a crazy fluke she concentrated on him. Even glared at one that neared when his voice broke through the medical white noise. That doctor backed up and left.

"Dean?" Was this it? Were they done? Was he breaking up with her after everything they'd been through because he couldn't deal? She looked at him worriedly, blue eyes watching his face as she sat up with a bit of difficulty. Then she saw it, felt it first really but it didn't register with all the hospital madness. Her expression softened and she waited for him to speak.

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