Who: Dean and Liv What: Yet another Winchester crisis Where: The Diner When: Late, after this Ratings: Talks of violence, Supernatural spoilers for anyone who hasn't seen The Prisoner, language, Feels and Fluffs.
Liv locked up the morgue and headed out of the hospital before she and Dean were even done texting. If he didn't tell her where he was, goddamnit she was going to track him down, and that wasn't going to be pretty for anyone- especially those who happened to see her in the process. Thankfully it was late, and there weren't many people out on the street to catch sight of the bleach-white zombie girl speedwalk/running down the street to the diner.
She didn't even have that urgent a reason to demand Dean inform her of his whereabouts, save for gut instinct about everything he'd told her about himself. How this curse made him more than volatile, a hair trigger on a big caliber gun. She didn't know the details, but she knew Dean- at least from the friendship she developed with him over the last few weeks, and she knew that killing his brother was no trivial thing.
All she could think was thank god he had the mind to text her first.
She rounded the corner with the all-night cafe across the street, and just happened to catch sight of the big guy heading from the other direction. "Dean!" she chirped out without thinking, and trotted across the street to meet him. She still had her labcoat on, and didn't seem to know it. Or that it was flecked with blood right around the waist level.