Dean Winchester (i_soldieron) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2011-03-03 20:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | dean winchester, dinah lance |
I'm going to Disney Land (Dean/Dinah Log)
(OOC: Backdated to the day right after this.)
Dinah made it back to the Clock Tower after her encounter with the strange vampire and Dean Winchester. She let herself into the computer command center and looked down at her tights, which were torn to shreds from her fall on the pavement. She sighed. She had certainly spent enough time meeting the pavement since her arrival in the City, and the tights just didn’t quite provide the protection that the rest of her costume did.
Not to mention that this City just didn’t seem to have the same acceptance of costumes on heroes. At least, not fishnet type costumes. While she wasn’t ashamed of her outfit, and treasured the resemblance to her mother’s outfit, even she could recognize that sometimes it was better to blend in.
Dinah rummaged through the costume closet off the Clock Tower, hoping that her old costume might be there. She found it quickly and pulled it out to look it over. A gift from Oracle when they’d first begun working together, the costume was a long legged, long sleeved bodysuit made out of a kevlar weave. Effective in providing some protection against bullets and, she noted, the high neckline would help when it came to the vampires she’d been facing lately. Not to mention that the utility built would provide more room to hide tools against the supernatural. Given the nature of the City’s darker elements, it seemed as though she needed a wider array of weaponry than she had in anywhere else she’d lived.
Maybe the change wouldn’t be permanent, but this seemed to be the best costume for the time being. Dinah glanced down at the torn fishnets, revealing several scraps and cement burns, and sighed.
Tomorrow, she would have to head for the library.
The next day, Dinah took some time away from the Sherwood Florist and managed to find the City’s library without too much trouble. Her first stop was, with much trepidation, the graphic novels section. She sat down with a few and began to pore over them. Every so often, she had to stop and make a face at the panel. “Really? What the hell is my ass doing in that shot?” and “I have never worn a thong!” escaped her lips more than once.
Overly attentive art aside, the graphic novels were surprisingly accurate in many details. Here and there were inconsistencies, but for the most part, her entire life with the League was laid out before her. Dinah gathered up the books she’d found most useful to check out and then headed for the card catalog.
She located the books Dean had mentioned-titled ‘Supernatural’ as he’d said and began to page through one of those. A few chapters in, she found that this was definitely something to take home and mull over. While she wasn’t exactly going to forgive Dean’s lack of people skills anytime soon, it certainly explained a lot about his personality.
Finally, Dinah decided to check out the piles of books. She ignored the raised eyebrow of the clerk and left with her arms straining from the weight of all the books.
She hesitated after she loaded the books into a satchel hanging off her bike. After a moment, she retrieved the phone book from the satchel and opened it, searching the W’s. It didn’t take long to locate the only Winchester in the book. Dinah exhaled in frustration with herself, but all the same picked up the phone to dial Dean’s number.
----
Dean wasn’t expecting any phone calls. Then again, he hadn’t expected Wanda’s, so he answered it. The ID already told him who it was. He couldn’t help the smirk; he knew she’d be calling. Just like he had a feeling Wanda would call, too. He could read people, and while he pissed her off, he’d piqued her interest, too. Women were very funny creatures.
“Busty Asian Babes, how may we service you?” He was biting back a laugh. The mirth was certainly there in his voice. He coughed over the laugh that almost escaped.
“Hey, swee-Dinah. How can I help you?” He chuckled softly into the phone. Yes, for some reason, he didn’t mind getting a little under her skin.
----
Dinah rolled her eyes.
“Busty Asian babes? That’s the best you could come up with?” she shot back. “Anyway, there’s something I want to show you. Do you have time to meet with me today?”
Not that she really needed to feed the ‘god’s gift to women’ ego, but he’d made a good point the night before. There was a hell of a lot in the City that she didn’t know about, and she could use all the assistance she could get. Even if that meant putting up with one of the City’s more obnoxious males. She just had to keep reminding herself that he was still one of the good guys, chauvinistic tendencies and all.
----
“Well, I could have gone with Debbie’s House of Slap and Tickle, but I didn’t think you’d like that.” Dean was definitely laughing at this one. Well, the laughter was in his voice. What else was he going to say to that one? She practically challenged him to do better/go further.
“Yeah, I’m free.” There was a beat. “Is everything okay?” The teasing had dropped from his voice. Why would a chick who seemed more than capable and willing to look after her call him out of the blue? Especially when she’d left in a bit of a huff the last time he’d seen her?
“I was just doing some research for a case, but it’s nothing dire.” Only that he really wanted his car, damn it. He missed his baby. Not that he’d admit something like that to her; she wouldn’t understand. He’d have to check into the classified ads later.
----
Dinah cocked an eyebrow..
“Because ‘Busty Asian Babes’ is so much less offensive than ‘Debbie’s House of Slap and Tickle,’” she said with a slight disbelieving chuckle.
It surprised her how quickly his voice turned serious, almost concerned. She had to remind herself that he wasn’t just an overly obnoxious guy. There were some redeeming qualities to him. That was the whole reason she’d cared enough to contact him and set the record straight.
“Everything’s fine. It’s... well, I’ll explain when I see you. There’s a coffee shop on the corner of 76th and Park. Would you be able to meet out front there?”
----
“If I can find it, sure.” There was a hint of frustration in Dean’s voice. He was having a hell of a time finding things, and that was saying something. He was supposed to be a hunter; finding things, whatever they were and sometimes whoever, was his job. He was beginning to wonder if he was forced, could he find his own ass if he’d just bent over to kiss it good bye.
“See you when I see you.” With that, he hung up. If he didn’t find the coffee shop, he’d do what he could to find her. He knew she was out there, unlike other people and cherished things, so he would find her. Mainly just to know he found her. Seeing whatever she had to show him, and for a moment his mind took a turn for the not at all knight in dented armor, was secondary to finding her, to knowing that he could.
It took him a little longer than he would have liked, but then again, he was footing it, not riding some kick ass bike, or even driving one of Bobby’s old jalopies. He was doing the best he could with what he got, and some people would say as it was, Dean Winchester didn’t have a lot.
----
Dinah looked up as Dean approached on foot. She hadn’t taken the time to notice how he’d gotten there the other night and had left before him. She felt a rush of sympathy for just a moment. Clearly the City hadn’t dropped a mode of transportation into his lap like it had with hers. For just a moment, she considered the fact that she should have let him choose the place they met.
“Hi,” Dinah greeted him. “Thanks for making it.”
She nodded towards the alley.
“We’ll go in and get a cup of coffee to warm up in just a moment. But first, I want to show you something.”
Without waiting for him to follow, she ducked down the alley. Once he joined her, she reached into her backpack and retrieved one of the graphic novels and handed it to him.
“While I think you need to learn a thing or two about talking to women, you still seem to be one of the good guys. So, I wanted to prove to you that I’m not just acting on a lark, or whatever it was you called it.”
She pointed to the drawing of herself on the cover of a book titled ‘JLA: Year One.’
“That’s me. I’m in quite a few of these books, and it’s important that you accept that I’m not just playing pretend. These things are real. Which means that if I’m here, some of the things we faced as a team might end up here as well. I thought you deserved to be warned about that.”
She waited for his reaction to that information, ready to offer further proof once he’d had time to look over the book that she’d offered.
----
Dean took up the tradeback. He didn’t look shocked, or interested other than having the book. He flipped through it, pausing now and then to look at something in particular. Now and then he’d look up at her then back at the trade.
“Well, it looks like whoever drew this certainly wanted your assets to be front and center.” He kept flipping. “So, you’re saying you knew them, mm? Yeah, and I’m the Easter Bunny.” He held out the book to her. “You look like this Black Canary chick.” Yeah, he’d read enough to figure that out. “Even have the name, but sweetheart, superheroes don’t exist. They’re about as real as unicorns.”
He couldn’t let himself actually get excited about this. Superman, Batman...”Next thing you’ll be telling me is that the Wayne Industries building downtown, or wherever the hell it is, is Bruce Wayne’s. Probably have the Wayne Manor too?” Yeah, he knew about some of that, too. “Probably have old Arkham somewhere...” Dean paused as he thought about this one; he shook his head, no way in hell that was the same place.
----
So Dean must not have spent time in Arkham like the rest of the people she’d met so far. Interesting.
“Not entirely sure about Wayne Industries, though yes, I think that’s Bruce’s. And sure, superheroes don’t exist. I’ll bet people say the same thing about vampires and every other supernatural thing you’ve faced over the years.”
Dinah put down her bag and stalked over to an empty glass bottle. She set it on top of a dumpster and then took a few steps back, glancing over her shoulder at Dean.
“You should cover your ears.”
----
Dean didn’t have anything to say quickly to that. He knew how people reacted to being told about the bumps in the night, that they really were things that ate children or worse. It was part of why he usually didn’t tell people about it, even if Sam had convinced him it might be a good idea on occasion.
Wait, how had she known about the years? He hadn’t said anything about that, had he? He was about to ask as much, but decided to give in to her very strange request. With a shrug, he lifted his hands to his ears.
“Right.” That was all he could think to say for the moment.
----
Dinah opened her mouth and released a very targeted cry, aiming her vocals straight at the bottle. It shattered easily.
She turned back to Dean and grabbed another of the books, opening it up to a splash page of the artistic rendition of herself delivering the cry. She handed it to him.
“I’m not just playing dress-up here, Dean. That’s me. I don’t know exactly how, but the writers of these books must have been tuned into our world somehow, because this sure as hell resembles my life. This is my team, and we’re just as real as you are.”
----
“I know how it works for me.” Dean looked over the book, flipping pages again. “Your team? You came with a team? And, seriously, this isn’t real. Not like I know reality.” He sighed and handed the book back. “Unless you have met the people who draw these things, it doesn’t work the same way...”
Dean stepped away, his hand rubbing at his temples and forehead. This was bad. Twisted and bad. So very bad. He couldn’t be walking into another story that he had no control over, not again. He thought he had finished with all of that. Then again, he thought he had found a family and settled down. He’d thought like Lot, hadn’t he?
“Let’s say this is all real, not saying it is, but let’s say it is. What does that mean?” Dean didn’t look lost; he wasn’t crying, but he felt inside something was very wrong, and all he wanted was someone or something familiar that wasn’t an angel who should have been dead.
----
“I didn’t come here with a team. Unfortunately. But yes, I’ve been a member of the Justice League, the Justice Society, the Birds of Prey. Back home, I have a lot of back-up available to me, but so far Batman and I are the only ones here.” Dinah corrected.
“And it means that anything in these books could come through here. Since you’re willing to fight, I thought you deserved to know about it. It means that Joker is here and possibly Harley Quinn too. If you’re familiar with Batman, I assume you’re familiar with the Joker too?”
Dinah sighed. This was not at all going well. She’d expected him to keep up his smug expression. She’d even been prepared to hold her own against his ribbing. She hadn’t expected him to take this seriously. Taking it seriously was the best thing he could do, but that still didn’t mean she was prepared for it.
“Look, I’m hoping that it stops with the Joker and Harley. I’m hoping none of the other threats from my world come through. But I thought you deserved to know that it’s possible. If anything does come through, I’m going to do whatever I can and stand beside anyone else willing to fight. There’s a reason that the heroes in my world banded together, and it wasn’t because we needed the camaraderie. I’m hoping the City won’t give a reason for everyone to join forces, but if they do, well the more people I have in my corner the better.”
She put the books back in the backpack.
----
“Bullshit on the camaraderie. Bruce Wayne is shit without Robin, even if it is creepy for an old guy to have some kid around.” Dean smirked slightly. “Superman is nothing without Lois, and humans to remind him there is such a thing as frailty.” He wasn’t stupid. “And Aquaman’s a douche bag, and a very screwed guy with his fish fetish. As opposed to someone with a fishnet fetish. It’s not the same.”
Dean started to step out of the alleyway. “Course, if that is Arkham, doesn’t mean Joker’s there. Think I liked Nicholson’s more than Ledger’s, but Bale isn’t a bad Bruce. Halle Berry is hot, but that was a pussy of a Catwoman.” He hmphed softly at the bad joke. “Not saying I’m buying it; I’ve seen some crazy shit. Met a Leshii who looked like Paris Hilton - doesn’t mean I met Paris Hilton. Sam got his ass kicked by Gandhi, doesn’t mean the little bald guy in a diaper went for the violence.”
“But, yeah, you need to fight the good fight, I guess I’m up for that.” Dean shrugged. “So, you’re buying the coffee, and pie, right?”
----
“Hey buddy, those are my friends you’re talking about!” Dinah followed Dean as he began to step out of the alley. “And I’m not saying that they don’t need the camaraderie. Because believe me, they do. Even if they might not realize it these days,” she added under her breath. “At any rate, what I’m saying is that a bigger threat drew everyone together, and we’re going to hope that it doesn’t happen that way here. Because I may have been on a team with them, but I’m not Wonderwoman or Superman. If anything that I needed their help with lands here, we’re all in trouble.”
She did her best to follow the stream of unintelligible names and references, and finally gave up.
“I don’t remember saying anything about pie,” Dinah said with a small smile. “But yes, coffee and pie’s on me. As long as you don’t call me sweetheart.” She paused for a moment, thinking of all the loopholes to that statement. “Or baby, or toots, or anything else. Believe it or not, most women don’t enjoy being called those things indiscriminately.”
----
“You have never fought Lucifer, angels, and demons. Superman and Batman, not even pretty pretty princess Diana, would have much luck with them. They might be aliens or made by the gods - Batman is just his own man.” Dean’s smile was almost boylike adoration, but it disappeared as he continued. “They aren’t that big a deal. You fight when you fight, fuck all who’s more powerful.”
“Well, what’s coffee without pie?” Dean laughed softly. “Actually, it’s interesting how many women actually do like it. Just a smile.” He gave her one that didn’t exactly suggest she was a piece of meat, but that he knew very well how to make her smile, stepping closer. “And maybe a ‘hi’ with a ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart.’” He licked his bottom lip, the smile shifting a little. His voice changed a bit, lower, huskier. “But, you’re right. It’s usually better to call a woman by her name, Dinah.” He stood there, and deep inside, he hoped she didn’t deck him, or worse.
“But, what do I know?” He stepped back, giving her a wink.
----
Dinah would have taken the time to point out the merits in recognizing one’s limits, but Dean responded to her terms before she had the chance to react.
For just a minute, she reflected on the fact that he was a fairly attractive man, when one looked past the attitude and the issues with women. Of course, the whole invading personal space thing was just as awkward as it was interesting and she considered knocking him on his ass for just a second. Then the moment passed and he stepped back.
Dinah rolled her eyes.
“A guy fights Lucifer once and comes away thinking he’s god’s gift, hm?” she said, with a hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “If the women you generally hit on fall for that sort of thing, maybe you should be aiming higher.”
----
“Well, I was chosen.” Dean shrugged slightly, trying to make a joke of it. It wasn’t easy, and he’d already turned so that she didn’t see his face. He hated it all. He hated what it caused, and he didn’t like being some pawn in some big game. He looked back at her. “That’s the kind of thing a jealous girl says. You know, the kind of girl who wants to give in, but can’t because that’s not what a real woman does.”
Dean shook his head, smiling. “It’s not about aiming, it’s about the hunting. The pursuit. By the time you’re aiming, it’s all over with. If you want to use that metaphor.” Dean shrugged. “Wonder if they have good pie.” He looked in the shop window before grabbing the door and opening it for her.
----
Dinah raised an eyebrow as he opened the door for her, but she entered without comment. She also considered responding to his ‘girl’ comment, but decided to let that drop. She didn’t have to defend her maturity, or the fact that she was a ‘real woman.’
“Well, I suppose as long as you’re satisfied, that’s the important thing,” she said with a smirk.
Okay, so maybe she couldn’t resist rising to the taunt just a little bit. Before he could respond, Dinah joined the end of the line, scanning the menu for pie selections. If she was buying pie for Dean, she was definitely going to make sure she had some too.
----
“Oh, that’s a trap if I ever heard one. I say ‘I am,’ you get indignant - yes, I know that word - that I didn’t satisfy her. I say ‘everyone is,’ you harp once more on my being god’s gift. I never said it, so I have to wonder who is really thinking that.” Dean wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were on the menu, but the smirk was certainly for her. His hands were in his pockets as he scanned the sign for something that even resembled pie.
He coughed softly as he overheard an order; he leaned over a little, voice lowering but not quite as husky as before. “Who needs a notnfat, low foam skinny mini super vente grande mocha chocalatte with a twist of a vanilla bean and raw sugar sprinkles?” His hand was at her back, not pushing her but more in protection, instinct, as some guy got a little closer than Dean liked as he passed. Dean didn’t apologize for it either; soon the hand was back in his pocket as if nothing had happened.
“I mean, I don’t think I could handle the raw sugar sprinkles.” His eyes were back on the menu.
----
“It’s not my place to make assumptions about your love life. I’m sure you do just fine,” Dinah said in a slightly patronizing voice as she patted Dean on the shoulder.
She turned her attention to the menu then, jumping as she felt the hand on her back. But before she could raise her own hand to catch his in a bone-cracking grip, it was gone again. Dinah gave Dean a hard look and then turned her attention back to the menu as their turn came up.
“So, no raw sugar for you. What do you want then?” she asked Dean.
----
“Mm, but didn’t you just?” Dean finally looked down at her, smirking still. “It’s okay; you wouldn’t be the first, and you probably won’t be the last.” He still seemed to be looking at her, but the guy who had passed so closely before was coming in for another run. Dean watched him carefully, and the guy moved on to get his coffee order. Dean hadn’t pulled his hands from his own pocket, but someone had definitely touched Dinah.
“So we’ve touched on my pick up skills, or lack there of, my choice in women, and my love life. Now, what about yours?” The smirk went from a smile, and the close passer was headed on his way back to possibly his seat, which meant he’d have to get close to Dinah, again. Well, he didn’t have to, but he seemed ready and willing to do so. Dean just watched. Hey, he knew that pass and grab move; it worked in many ways - picking a pocket, copping a feel, both. Dean had seen the look, just out of the corner of his eye, so he supposed he’d let her take care of whatever happened next.
----
Dinah ordered two coffees and glanced over to Dean to see which pie he wanted before ordering a slice of chocolate cheesecake for herself. Once she’d collected their order and handed Dean his coffee, she answered his questions.
“Well, I wouldn’t say I have much in the way of pick-up skills, or in a choice of women. As for the love life,” she shrugged. “I’m sure whatever I say about that, you’ll make your own assumptions anyway.”
She felt a hand glance over her butt at that moment. Without looking, Dinah’s hand shot up and gripped the offending groper. She pivoted and twisted his arm, applying enough pressure to cause the perv to let out a shout, but stopping well short of breaking any bones.
“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” the man shouted.
Dinah said nothing, but instead levelled a glare at him that only hinted at just how much damage she could do. After a moment, she released his arm and the groper nearly tripped over himself in rushing away.
Dinah turned back to Dean.
“I’m beginning to think manners and chivalry are a dying art.” She led Dean over to a table and took a seat, ignoring the stares that she’d drawn from some of the other customers in the crowd.
----
“Or maybe you need to redefine the time and place for both.” Dean settled down at the table, his hands resting on the top’s surface. “Plus, women only fall back on manners and chivalry when they don’t like whatever a man is doing. That or chauvinism. It’s unfair. It’s okay to throw around those words, but a guy calls some chick a ‘bitch’...”
The apple pie and the coffee, black, was positioned just so. He shifted his weight, leaning forward to start cutting in the fruity goodness. He needed something to help soothe his poor broken spirit, well, bruised spirit. He watched her for a second.
“Women seem to want everything.” His fork shifted to ask for a moment. “Men do, too, but we’re more obvious about it. We don’t get as huffy, most of us don’t. Not saying we’re the better of the sexes, but we’re not bad.” He smiled, taking another bite of pie. He wasn’t wolfing it down, but the way he sat for a moment suggested he was ready to eat quickly just in case. Then with a sigh, he sat back and looked at the pie, something was going on in that head of his. He just wasn’t ready to share; instead, he looked at her.
“So, what do you do for fun, Dinah? All work and no play makes a fishnet vigilante a dull girl.” He smiled at her, just a small tease there.
----
“I would argue that ‘bitch’ and ‘chauvinist’ are two very different things in terms of an insult, but I have a feeling I’d be wasting my breath,” Dinah said, shaking her head. “And I would also argue that you’re a little biased in the war of the sexes there,” she said with a small laugh.
She busied herself with pouring a small amount of cream into her coffee and taking a bite of the cheesecake as he seemed to get lost in thought for a minute before changing the subject. Somehow, Dinah didn’t think he was actually spending that time pondering what she did with her free time, but she wasn’t going to press the issue.
“Well, I own a flower shop. Which still sounds like work, I know. But there’s something about working with beauty, about that reminder that there’s still love in the world and being a part of that in some way. It’s a nice release. Besides that, you can’t beat a few hours to spend locked in my garage working on a motorcycle.” A slightly wistful look crossed Dinah’s face then. “I built my bike by hand back home. It took years. I miss that bike.” She sighed and then forced herself to snap out of the self-pity. “What about you?”
----
“What you were riding the other night wasn’t bad.” Dean took a sip of the bitter coffee, but it was better than some of the stuff he’d had. It was all relative. He also dropped the insult/sex war line of the conversation. Truth was he didn’t think men or women were any better; humans in general could be right douche bags, and angels were dicks. Demons were just bad. It didn’t matter what sex they were.
“You know, I don’t have much in the way of free time. I like what I do, usually. My night and day job. I get a few drinks, maybe watch some tv...I’d work on my car if it was around. So, tell me bout the bike. I’m not much of a bike man, but I can see how it could be a good thing.” His smile was soft; he just ate his pie. It wasn’t that he had some strange emotional issue, but they weren’t there on a date; he didn’t have to charm her or flirt with her. He did it on occasion because it was fun to see her reaction. He didn’t feel the need to get into her pants, and he guessed if he had to know a superhero type, he might as well get to know said superhero type.
----
“I don’t have much in the way of free time myself,” Dinah agreed. She smiled when he asked about the bike. “Well, I really shouldn’t complain. I’m lucky that I even got a bike after arriving in the City really. It’s just that... it’s not my bike, you know? But I’ve been slowly making improvements on that one. Assuming that I’m here long enough, I have a feeling it might even end up being better than my old bike, since I’ve been able to track down an even wider variety of parts and well, you can’t go wrong with a Harley as a base. So, what type of car do you-did you have?” she asked. Though bikes were more her thing, mechanics and working on any type of vehicle was something she could relate to.
----
“Can’t go wrong with a Harley.” Dean turned his coffee cup absently. “Impala. ‘67. Was my dad’s before I got her. I’ve had to rebuild her a couple times. She never stopped, always came back. Never let me down even after all the time she got banged up and sent through buildings. Course, I usually wasn’t the one driving when that happened.” His smile was sad. He missed so much, and he was surprised that he could still feel this way.
“Now if I can find her. She’s got to be here.” The way he said it; he might have been in denial, but it was a very confident denial. Dean had a hard time believing that he was going to have to spend his time here, what there was of it, in some other car. He’d yet to go to some other time that she wasn’t there; he’d be damned if he didn’t think she’d be there even in some screwed up alternate reality. “Guess you could say, she’s the closest thing to a home. Which reminds me...”
He looked at her, really looked at her. “When you said ‘years’ before, talking about the hunting, how’d you know that? Pretty certain I didn’t say anything about that.”
----
“An Impala? That’s a classic,” Dinah said with a low whistle. She nodded slightly in regards to his explanation of the Impala being close to a home.
At his question, Dinah ducked her head sheepishly and retrieved the backpack. She pulled out one of the books she’d found.
“I’m sorry. I was going to tell you. While I was at the library, I found your books. I didn’t read everything, but I just needed to know what side you were on.”
She instantly regretted not leading with that, and the fact that it felt like she’d invaded his privacy. In a way, she had. She knew how she would feel if someone had gone and started reading all the intimate details of her life via the comic books. Never mind that they were there for anyone in the City to do just that.
----
Dean groaned as he saw the book, then laughed. “Oh, you won’t think much better of me in that one. I think that’s the full frontal one.” He shook his head as he set down his fork and looked at the book’s cover.
“I’m pretty sure you could have gathered what side I was on by my saving your life, but hey, I understand. I like to know what I’m up against too.” Dean took a sip of coffee. “Now if you could just give those to me, I’ll take care of them.” Yeah, burning them seemed like a damn good answer. Just letting them go up in smoke and never let anyone else read them. He liked that idea.
“Unless you plan on actually reading them....” The smirk came back as he looked at her. “Nothing in there I can’t tell you myself; wouldn’t want you to become a fan or anything.” He looked around then at her. “Actually, if you could just let me get rid of them, I’d be owe you one. It’s not like this place could have more than one copy of those damn things, right?” There was a moment of worry and loss, he looked like a little boy as he looked up at her. “Right?”
-----
Dinah obliged, handing over the books.
“For your sake, I hope not. It’s your life story to do what you will with. You’re just going to have to owe me for the fines from not returning them,” she said with a small smile.
A part of her doubted that burning the books was going to help that much. The City seemed to replace things that were destroyed, if it wanted them to exist in the first place. She had a feeling the library might just have another copy as soon as this one was destroyed, but she hoped she was wrong.
“Any reason why you’re so quick to burn them?” she asked. “Besides the full frontal, that is.”
----
“You’ve never met someone who wanted to be you. Who thought your life was just ‘awesome’. It’s fucked.” Dean took the books. He didn’t say anything about the fines, but she would find that she didn’t have any. Hey, he was okay with stealing things, but he wasn’t going to put her out for the crimes he committed.
“I got conned into going to one of these fan conventions. The guy...Carver Edlund.” Dean pointed the author name on the cover. “A fan that knew we were real called us there, and he was there. And the damn ‘fans’ got a bunch of ghosts upset. It’s fuckin’ disturbing to see that many people dressed like me, Sam, Bobby, Cas..” Dean shuddered thinking bout it.
“And, don’t care bout the full frontal. It happened. It’s reading my life in print, knowing that other people are reading it, thinking it’s some kick ass story. Something to read like those fucking Twilight things or Harry Potter. Fuck, if those guys are here, I’m killing at least one of those freaks. Vampires do not sparkle.” Dean shook his head, looking at the books.
“Sorry, just, this was twisted shit. You read much of them?” Dean peeked up at her, brow raised.
----
“Hey, try having your life story told in a comic book. And there were people back home who wanted to be me, who wanted to be like all of us in the League. It’s hard to get a fifteen year old kid to realize what sort of life they’re trying to sign up for when they follow you around trying to be a sidekick.”
Dinah looked away for a minute, thinking of Roy and Mia, and just how much taking up the mantle of Speedy, following Ollie around in what he did, had twisted their lives.
“I read the first few chapters, but then I decided that it was too much of an invasion of privacy. I would like to know what could be out there, but like you said, you could tell me yourself. I don’t need to go nosing around in your personal business to find out what’s out there.”
----
“Exactly. Plus, having a book written about you, pages actually, before the shit actually happens to you sort of makes you feel like you’re not the one in control. Having people want to be you, want to get into the League, bet it was a hassle.” Dean wasn’t being condescending. “But, you didn’t know about those, did you? The comics? It’s one thing for someone to write about them after, but before...” He shook his head.
“It doesn’t matter. All that’s done, just don’t want people reading them. It’s just too weird, and that’s saying a lot coming from me.” He gave her a slight smile before returning to his pie to finish it.
----
Dinah blinked in surprise.
“So these books were written before things happened? As in, they knew what was going to happen before you did?” She shook her head. “And no, I didn’t find out about the comic books until I got here. There were some back home, made-up adventures celebrating some of the League’s more prominent members, but nothing like these... these tell intimate details that only those who were there could have known. And from what I understand, they’re passed off as fiction on worlds that don’t have costumed superheroes.”
She tried not to think too much about having someone tuned into the private details of her life, of all their lives in such a bizarre way. About having it out there for anyone to read.
“And if I ever meet those artists, well, let’s just say they won’t be able to draw the asses of all the women in the League any more,” she said with a dark smile.
----
“Before, yeah. It would have been nice to know they existed. They started around the same time I had to get my brother to find our dad.” Dean laughed almost bitterly. “It would have been nice to have them when they came out, but eh.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how the whole publishing thing works, but I know Chuck - Carver Edlund’s real name - wrote them before things happened. He was a ‘prophet.’”
“I’m sure you’d give them more than a piece of your mind.” He finished of his pie. “I don’t mind telling you things, but some stuff it’s better to just let me handle. Not saying you can’t, but you haven’t been dealing with this shit your whole life. Sometimes it’s easier and better to leave it to the idiots who do it on a regular basis.”
-----
“A prophet? That’s... creepy,” Dinah said with a small shudder. “I see what you mean about the whole ‘free will’ thing.” She took a moment to savor another bite of her cheesecake, before continuing.
“I have no problem letting you in on things that you’ve run into before. But, like you said about heroes needing camaraderie, I’m here to help if you need it, and I’m not just going to toss problems in your lap if they come my way.”
Dinah shot Dean a small smile, and then took one last bite of her cheesecake.
----
“Yeah. Team Free Will.” Dean finished off his coffee, setting the cup down on the table.
“I got my side covered. But, if anything comes up that needs a hot super heroine, I’ll definitely give you a call.” He just smiled, not mentioning anything about her lap and problems. “Or if you need any help with that bike of yours.”
“So...yeah.” He wasn’t one for idle chatter, not unless it was leading somewhere. “Guess we’ve had some bizarre meeting of the minds and all that.”
-----
Dinah took the hint that the conversation was over and stood, waiting for Dean to do the same.
“No one touches my bike but me,” she said with a grin. “But thanks anyway. Though, if you find your Impala, you’re welcome to bring it by my garage. And I suppose you have my number now.”
----
“Yeah, I got your number.” Dean chuckled. It could be taken so many ways. He gathered the books, thankful that she hadn’t checked them all out. “Oh, not that I’m asking you out on a date, but if you ever want to get a burger, I know this pretty good place.”
He shifted the books, feeling like some Poindexter back in school, carrying a girl’s books. Funny, he never did that back then. Then again, he was going to be burning these books, so he guessed that evened some of the strangeness out.
----.
Dinah couldn’t help but smile at the offer.
“Well, I never was one to turn down a good burger.” She eyed the books then. “Hey, Dean? I looked at the last book, and it doesn’t have anything about you ending up in this City. So, it seems like you might have your free will back. So, what are you going to do with it?”
----
"I'm going to Disney Land." Dean smiled slightly; he hadn't thought of it that way. Not exactly. But, now that she'd mentioned it, he was going to have to give it a mulling over. He had always thought he had free will, even at times he didn't feel it. This crazy town prison with its lack of Impala and family, in all its shapes and forms, may have given him something he hadn't thought was possible.
"Catch for you that burger sometime." He nodded as soon as they were outside and turned to make his way somewhere that would let him have one of the nicest fires he'd ever had pleasure of setting.