Dean Winchester (i_soldieron) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2011-07-06 01:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | dean winchester |
If only it was a little California dreamin' [Narrative]
Dean didn't know how he'd gotten to the Hospital after going man-to-vampire and losing, but he didn't stay long. He felt well enough to go home, even if he had to get a cab and use one of his remaining stolen credit cards to do it. He checked himself out, stopped by a pharmacy to fill the painkiller prescription, got some liquid courage, and crawled up to the apartment to finish his convalescence.
The first few nights and days had been...different:
1. take the pills
2. go to sleep
3. sleep the sleep of the dead
4. wake up
5. check mouth for fangs
6. avoid people to keep from eating them
7. drink and eat
8. return to no. 1
The damn vampire had filled the hunter's mouth with blood, and the hunter knew what that meant. He couldn't ask Sam for the fix because this Sam, with his damn soul and not having said 'yes' to Lucy, had no idea there was a cure for vampirism. Plus, Dean really wasn't up to telling his little brother that he, Dean Winchester, might become a vampire for the second time in his life. He also wasn't up for going toe to toe with the son of a bitch bloodsucker either. Something about the Nordic god, which he would never admit to considering as a nickname for the asshole, gave him the willies. He didn't know how he'd handle himself around the bastard.
After the first few days, Dean became more relaxed. The pain, what there was of it, was fading along with his worries that he'd be turned. It was strange. There was no way he should be alive, no way he should be able to walk in the daylight without any problems, yet at noon, when he finally got up and out of the apartment, he took a stroll through the park to watch the children play. Not in that pervy he wanted to feed upon the blood of the innocent way either. It was a strange affirmation. So, he didn't take as many pills when he went to bed, and he checked his gums less to make sure he wouldn't be a dentist's nightmare/wet dream. That was a bad idea.
The first night the dream had been okay. There was a woman dancing on the stage like she did so many times, soon joined by another, and things were about to get very nice and dirty. Until he showed up. Blond, smiling, and dancing. The women were forgotten, and Dean found himself very interested in the blond bastard, who he hated, moving on the stage. The vampire claimed first one woman then the other, drinking their blood with wild abandon, and Dean licked his lips while feeling a little jealous he wasn't the one being tasted. When the blond man moved from the stage to settle beside him on the couch, Dean turned and kissed the now bloody lips, intending to do more. Thankfully, his phone rang before he actually got to more.
Dean Winchester didn't think about it, refused to. Instead he took a pill and drank. He settled back into bed after watching a goodly amount of porn, taking care of the matter at hand, and deciding that the dream would not happen again. It was some fucked up fluke that didn't happen in the first place. He was, of course, wrong.
The second night. Girls, blood, kissing, and when it got to the intended more, Dean was a little shocked. The vampire seemed shocked, too, pleasantly so. Hands went where hands shouldn't have, as far as Dean was concerned. Dean nuzzled into the bastard's neck and bit. There was a grunt of smug satisfaction from the blond bastard as Dean broke skin and started drinking. There was a very disturbing moan from the hunter as he sucked on the pale skin while both men were doing more than copping a junior high first girl/guy party feel. Dean woke up as someone's hand went a little too far.
While he had no problem with the way people lived their lives, as long as they weren't demonic, satanic, or just plain wrong, Dean was not comfortable in participating. He had a violent reaction to his dream, rising from bed with heaves. He took a shower to wash away the shame, brushed his teeth in hopes of forgetting the taste memory the dream brought, and then downed a few shots of whatever hard liquor he had in the cabinet to make sure his mouth was good and sterilized. He never finished the bottle though; he'd thought about it, but instead he flung the damn thing across the room. He was angry, very angry. What had that asshole done to him?
Dean Winchester decided. He would hunt the vampire down and kill him, but not before hunting down his friends and children and killing them. But first, he had some more drinking to do, maybe a few fights, and a lot of making up to the women of the City - he'd been neglecting them.