Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shutupsammy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2009-02-23 12:36 am
shutupsammy) wrote in tampered2009-02-23 12:36 am
(no subject)
When; Sunday night.
Rating; PG-13 at least. Pottymouf + religious themes.
Characters; Castiel [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ordered] + Dean Winchester [shutupsammy]
Summary; Dean has all of the insecurities in the world. The White Witch likes insecurities. Castiel, as per usual, deeply disapproves.
Log;
He'd wait. Because he knew he wouldn't have to wait long-- he said, find me, and Castiel would. Could. He didn't know why, maybe there was some kind of celestial marker on his soul or on his body, the new one he was dragged up and into. Maybe Angels had psychic powers, too. Maybe Dean was just exactly as transparent as everyone treated him like he was.
Either way, he sat in an armchair in the dark corner of their apartment, face pulled into a blank expression, window open even though it was still chilly out. Dean cleaned one of his guns and turned the television off and didn't look up, he only waited for the feel of wind and the sound of rustling feathers that somehow preceded the angels from where he came from.
They needed to talk. Dean knew he would get blamed and told off and chewed out again. But they needed to talk before he exploded. Even if now was a bad time. They hadn't talked since the fight with Alistair.
Rating; PG-13 at least. Pottymouf + religious themes.
Characters; Castiel [
ordered] + Dean Winchester [shutupsammy]Summary; Dean has all of the insecurities in the world. The White Witch likes insecurities. Castiel, as per usual, deeply disapproves.
Log;
He'd wait. Because he knew he wouldn't have to wait long-- he said, find me, and Castiel would. Could. He didn't know why, maybe there was some kind of celestial marker on his soul or on his body, the new one he was dragged up and into. Maybe Angels had psychic powers, too. Maybe Dean was just exactly as transparent as everyone treated him like he was.
Either way, he sat in an armchair in the dark corner of their apartment, face pulled into a blank expression, window open even though it was still chilly out. Dean cleaned one of his guns and turned the television off and didn't look up, he only waited for the feel of wind and the sound of rustling feathers that somehow preceded the angels from where he came from.
They needed to talk. Dean knew he would get blamed and told off and chewed out again. But they needed to talk before he exploded. Even if now was a bad time. They hadn't talked since the fight with Alistair.