Dean dodged the pelted bullets with a practised ease, for the most part, feeling a couple intense pangs in his limbs as he hurried to back away. Her wailing screams took time to digest through the raging fog that threatened to take over, but his conscious scrambled in the background to make sense of it.
Every instinct told him to attack, but something that was seared inside even deeper than the Mark knew he couldn't go after Lisa. He refused, just knowing that with the effects of his new curse, he'd tear her body to shreds long before he remotely injured the thing he was after.
That small logical part of his mind still drowning in chaos, however, was putting the pieces together. This spirit wasn't malicious, it was hurting. Someone or something had destroyed it in it's lifetime, and now it was back for it's hayday, trapped in it's own torment. He knew the type. What he was still struggling with was how to actually approach the situation. He couldn't trust himself. Ok. Breathe. What would Sammy do right now? Shit, what would Cass do?
His feet were still scrambling towards the edge of the playground when he saw the entire slide flying at him, triggering them to give out from under him, bringing his body to the ground just before the metal claimed his head. He clung to the iron bar in his hand like it was the only thing cementing him to the ground as he sprinted forward, ducking between the two nearest buildings.
Peeking his head out from behind his makeshift barrier, the second he caught sight of the Lisa creature, he watched his own hand as it placed the metal rod on the ground, as if it was playing out someone else's actions. Numbly, he looked back at her, and stared her down as he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
"Hey, I get it. I'm not gonna hurt you, ok? I won't. We can... talk about this... without throwing shit. Alright? Just... talk to me. Tell me who hurt you."