driftfleet | into the distance a ribbon of black

Who: Dean Winchester (AU) & anyone willing to put up with him
Broadcast: fleetwide video
Action: the marsiva if anyone wants!
When: RIGHT NOW

[ There is something to be said for the few seconds before truly waking up, when everything is fuzzy and safe and nothing matters as much as it did the night before. But that moment tends to get shot in the foot pretty damn fast, especially when Dean is prone to waking up with a rush of adrenaline. Made infinitely worse by the realization that a) he does not know where he is and b) the automatic grab for the weaponry usually confined to his body results in nothing. Nada. His pistol is nowhere to be found, the blade in his jacket is missing, and no amount of grappling about solves that problem. And while he finds the comm device it only annoys him further because it's not his damn gun.

Which is right around the instant Dean shoves himself off the bed and shouts near as loud as he can manage- ] The hell is this! [ Followed with some more grumbling. ] Be better if I asked which Hell is this.. swear to God, this shit never gets any better.

[ It’s too echoey, too sterile, and the immediate need for answers is almost overpowering. He doesn’t give two shits about looking himself over, pushes aside thoughts of the last image that flashes across his mind, and instead gives one more look around the bed he woke in to try and find his weaponry because fuck this shit. Why he’s unarmed is of particular concern and a vast amount of silent panic, but he doesn’t want to stand here and leave himself open to anything either. Which implies moving, something that takes only another second to decide upon.

Not that he’s going to be going far…

No, after a brief stint of stealthy meandering, Dean manages to find himself striding down towards the medical wing because why the hell not. Where it’s near impossible to resist the urge to start rifling through just about everything he can get his hands on. Because Dean Winchester is a Class Act. And because living through the apocalypse tends to make one appreciate medical supplies, especially when you're inclined to... start shit. ]

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[He bites his lip, nodding.]

Alright. Get used to the place. There's going to be a shuffle soon, so you'll get assigned to a ship and a crew. I haven't heard of any crews that are outright a pain in the ass... except maybe the Huntress or Blameless.... but you should be good. Usually you're assigned by the augment you're given.

Though there's been duplicates of job occupations aboard ships.

[ Ohhhhh, perhaps the wrong thing to bring up. Dean is a touch pissy about the fact that Sam and Dean are now bros, and out of all the things Dean is not okay with, that is most definitely one of them. ]

Having a good time rooming with Cas?

[ Watch him change the subject!! But no really, be careful how you answer this, Sam. Because there's probably a world of hurt in it no matter what you do. ]

[Aaaah... W-well.]

Yeah, it's... fine. I try not to let him get me into benders but we're, um, fine. [He's not about to say they're not; it takes him a moment to work himself up to it, but he's not going to pussyfoot around Dean on these things.] Look. Even if he's not from my timeline... he's still Cas. I'm trying to help him out, keep him occupied around here.

[He's a drug addict of sorts and alcoholic, so. That's not good, man.

It pays to be observant and make sure he's okay.]

[ Dean just sort of.... leans back and folds his arms over his chest because it's the best way he has to appear exceedingly cavalier. Assessing the situation without looking like he gives any kind of a shit. Part of him knows that he can't stop Cas and Sam from, what- getting along? But that's hardly the point. He can still be bitter and annoyed about it, because this is Sam we're talking about.

And Cas? Is really kind of his. ]

Fine. Glad you're here to lend a helping hand. [ Ahah. No, he's really not. But let's just ignore the fact that he's mostly upset because of how disgustingly guilty he feels. Shall we? ]

... Yeah. I'm glad to be helpful.

[Sam's quiet for a moment. A soft breath in, though he looks straight ahead to Dean.

Firmly:]

You could always transfer ships later, you know.

Any time you feel like it, if the ship's not at capacity.

[... Could be here, too, when you're ready.]

[ .... what. What. What does he even say to that. He's not sure there is anything he can say to that, that isn't wrecked and fucked up and still pissed off. Because that's really all anything is anymore. It just adds another layer to it that Sam and Cas are buddies. ]

Because that'd turn out well for everyone involved.

It could.

Turn out alright, I mean.

... Sooner or later, we gotta talk about -- everything. I know things've been bad.

[He doesn't need to clarify.]

Edited 2016-04-05 06:56 (UTC)

Again, how is that your problem.

[ This is what happens when the world goes to the shitter and Dean has to kill bajillions of people, Sam. This is what happens!! ]

Edited 2016-04-05 13:16 (UTC)

Because some other me screwed everything up and didn't put the devil back where he should have been? Because talking actually helps sometimes? Because you're my brother?

I don't exactly consider you and Cas a problem. You're both family.

[ Except he stopped talking to everyone except Cas five years ago, and picking that up again? Not exactly on his agenda. Which is why he's sort of officially done with this; there's nothing else he really knows how to say and he's even better at leaving a conversation than he used to be. ]

Talking might help you, but it's not gonna fix this.

[ Aaand that's it. He's out.

Disconnect! ]

Dean-

[.........

Sigh.

Well.

That could have gone worse.]

into the distance a ribbon of black

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