demonicbeauty | Deer Country Inbox

Sure.

[ Give him half an hour to cool his shit, use the lamp in front of his house to get as close as possible, then head over. He looks exceptionally distressed - and a solid five years younger. ]

[Ariadne is lingering under the cinnamon tree when she spots him. Or, more accurately, picks up his scent. Turning in his direction, she immediately picks up on something...different.

No wounds that she can see. His clothing is a mess, but that's not entirely uncommon.

There's something...something else.

Without hesitating, she walks over to the road, hurrying to meet up with him.]

Dean?

[ He hesitates a little, lingering a safe distance away because this is strange for him, knowing someone and yet not, relying on memories of another life, trying to grapple with what's real and what's just wisps of a dream. ]

Hey. Um -- how are you?

[She's deeply concerned. If the line forming between her eyes is any indication.

Unlike Dean, however, she's not one to hesitate.

She walks straight up to him and gives him a hug.]

You look like you need this.

[ He stiffens for a moment, because he's so rarely touched or hugged ( or was that other him who didn't like it, who didn't like being surprised with affection - or, more accurately, didn't know what to do with it after not having it for five years? ) -- but he immediately sinks into it, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck.

Fuck, he didn't realize how upset he really was. Not being able to talk to Sam, not really having anyone else...

It hurts. His heart hurts, and he's tired and maybe Cas is right - maybe they should just go home. ]

[She feels the way his attitude changes, his body stiff, then gentle. There's something going through his head right now.

Maybe something he needs to talk about. But she's not going to push it. Dean is still a snarly male, whether he lets her hug him or not.

Still, she lingers as long as she dares, before pulling back to arm's length, keeping her palms on his shoulders.]

Do you want to come inside? Sit down?

[Talk about it?]

[ She isn't wrong, there's a lot going on. He's...yeah. He's hurting. ]

Yeah, I think that would be nice. If you don't mind.

[Ariadne loops her arm through his elbow, gently leading the way into her little shop.

Past the herbs and the high windows from Deerington.

Up the spiral staircase.

And into her little nest above, a small room filled with pillows of every conceivable color, mobiles of colored glass drifting lazily in the breeze coming through one of the windows.]

Would you like some tea?

[ He lets himself be led, too mentally worn out to argue or do anything except go along with her.

And really - what he really wants is to drink himself into fuckiong oblivion so he doesn't have to think, but instead he finds himself nodding, taking in the area around him. It's pretty. Very her. ]

Yeah. Sure, thanks.

[She immediately goes to her little kitchenette. Dusty and unused though it is, she knows how to boil water for tea. She even owns a tea kettle, which is nothing short of miraculous.

She puts the kettle on, before turning to look at him again.

There really is something different about him. His face seems...almost like a smooth mask of his own face. Like a stone that a river's run over.]

I would offer you something to eat, but I don't have much besides bread and chocolate.

[ He feels like a zombie, a facsimile of who he was before. He feels strange in his own skin, and isn't sure how to process it. ]

...That's all you have for food? You should've told me, I'd have brought you something.

Well, it's not all...

[She gives him a timid, little shrug.]

I have plenty of fruit. But I don't think that's your favorite. Or has that changed?

No, it hasn't. Is this all you're eating? Bread, chocolate and fruit? That's it?

[ The focus is shifting straight to her as his concern rises. What the hell, Airy. ]

Somehow, I don't think you came here to talk about my diet.

[And while she's perfectly happy to let Dean steer the conversation, the last thing she wants is for it to become about her.

It's not about her.]

No, but now I'm worried about you. Are you getting enough? You know Sammy and I keep a full pantry.

[ Dean - endverse, anyway and now he supposes he, too - was a hoarder by necessity. An apocalyptic world rife with a raging virus and dwindling supplies? Yeah. Their basement looks like the canned section of a grocery store. ]

[She walks over to him, kneeling down on one of the pillows on the floor.]

Dean, I grew up in a rain forest. Right now, I have more food than I imagined existed, when I was a little girl.

And yes, I've seen your pantry.

Okay, but this doesn't seem like a balanced diet--

[ This, coming from mister cheeseburgers and pizza and apple pie. ]

So you know if you need anything, we got you.

[She smiles, tilting her head to one side.]

Of course I know that.

Why would I ever doubt you?

[ He flashes a smile, slightly tentative, lifting a shoulder in a tired shrug. ]

Just making sure. You worry me sometimes.

You're worrying me right now.

[What is going on in that head of his?

The tea kettle whistles on the stove, so Ariadne gets up to take care of it. She has a couple of mismatched mugs handy, quickly pouring two cups and adding the leaves to steep.]

What's troubling you, Dean?

I think, uh.

[ He rubs the back of his head, collapsing a little onto a pillow without grace. ]

I think Cas and I are done. Or--if we ever...were. I don't know what counts anymore.

[She nearly drops one of the mugs, gasping softly.]

No...

[And if she looks horrified, well. A part of it might be because she blames herself.

That stupid conversation. Why did she have to bring it up?]

[ He can immediately sense where her head goes, and he shakes his head. ]

No, it isn't your fault. It's ours. Mine. I wanted to...really see if Sam's soul was gone, and we screwed up the spellwork.

[ His face screws up, looking tired and drawn. ]

Remember the other Dean, the one who was here? The younger one, more of an idiot, kinda rude?

[Sam's soul? Well, that sends a chill down her spine.

She picks up the mugs and carries them over to Dean, setting them down on the floor.]

Yes, of course.

[ He stares down at the mug but doesn't pick it up. ]

I-- we both...shifted back into the original timeline. I'm...him, in a way. The other Dean. And Cas is...

Not a junkie anymore, let's put it that way.

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