Post by Dean Winchester on Sept 8, 2015 11:56:51 GMT -5
That same morning, Dean sat in his office, wearing his bluetooth headset, typing away at the keyboard, trying to ignore the little voice inside of him that kept trying to push Sam's crazy idea about hunting ghosts full time on him. It was a ridiculous idea and wasn't worth his time to even consider it, and yet that persistent little voice just kept reminding him how much fun he'd had working with Sam to kill Sandover and how many people's lives they'd probably saved by ending that threat.
Fortunately, he was saved from having to endure anymore of these daunting thoughts by the arrival of Mr. Adler. "Got a minute" he wanted to know, poking his head into the office. "Sure, of course" Dean allowed, beckoning for him to enter. Mr. Adler took a seat opposite Dean, watching him for a minute before asking, "how are you feeling Dean?" "Great" Dean answered immediately. Mr. Adler tilted his head to one side. "You look a little tired. Been working hard, I gather." "Yeah." Dean shrugged modestly but Adler called him out on it. "Ah, don't be modest. I hear everything. And I'm pleased with what I'm hearing. That's why it's important to me that you're happy." He leaned forward to take a post-it note off of Dean's desk, which he scrawled a five digit sum onto and passed it over. "How's that for a bonus?" Dean stared at the $50,000 in front of him with wide eyes. "That's very generous." He started running a list of everything he could buy with that kind of money through his head. Mr. Adler smiled, leaning back in his chair again. "Purely selfish. Wanna make sure you're not going anywhere." "Wow." Dean whistled. "Are you sure?" Mr. Adler nodded firmly. "Positive. You are Sandover material, son. Real go-getter. Carving your own way." "Well...thanks, I try" Dean admitted vaguely, still distracted by the amount on the post-it.
"I see big things in your future Dean" Mr. Adler announced proudly. "Maybe even senior VP, Eastern Great Lakes Division. Don't get me wrong, you'll have to work for it. Seven days a week, lunch at your desk, working through weekends and holidays" he listed, finishing with, "but in eight to ten short years, that could be you." The thought of working that hard just to be stuck behind a desk, pushing paperwork was oddly unsettling for Dean. For any other Director of Marketing and Sales, the idea of a promotion to senior VP would be a dream come true. And, maybe it would have been for Dean too...had the offer come one day earlier. But now...
"Uh, well, thank you" Dean said gratefully. "Thank you, sir. It's, um...but..." He folded the note in half and placed it face down on the desk, sliding it back towards Mr. Adler. "I am giving my notice." The smile slid right off of his face. "This is a joke. You're kidding me, right?" Dean shook his head seriously, removing his headset next and tossing it aside. "No. I've—I recently—uh, very recently realized that I have some other work I have to do" he explained slowly, working through it all in his head. "It's, uh, very important to me." Sam had been right. Helping people by saving them from ghosts was more important than any desk, corporate douche job could ever be. And certainly more fun. "Other work" Mr. Adler repeated, concerned. "Another company?" "No, I—it's hard to explain" Dean assured him, gesturing around at the immaculate office space. "It's just that this—this is—it's just—it's not who I'm supposed to be" he concluded.
Mr. Adler's face split into a wide grin, which was not the reaction Dean was expecting. "What?" "Dean, Dean, Dean. Finally." Mr. Adler leaned forward, placing two fingers to Dean's forehead without warning.
~~~
"What the hell?" Dean looked around the office in confusion, then down at himself. He was more than a little disoriented. "Why am I wearing a tie?" His stomach growled, distracting him from this question. "My God, am I hungry." The man across from him chuckled. "Welcome back." It didn't take Dean too long to piece the puzzle together. "Wait. Did I—did I just get touched by..." He pointed accusingly. "You're an angel, aren't you?" "I'm Zachariah" he confirmed grandly. "Oh, great" Dean groaned, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "That's all I need is another one of you guys." "I'm hardly "another one", Dean" he corrected, standing tall and proud. "I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into one of these smelly things." He gestured with mild disgust at his human vessel. "But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row." Dean was on his feet in a second, his posture stiff. "I am not one of your ducks." "Starting with your attitude" Zachariah insisted hotly, getting right in Dean's face. Dean did not back down or shy away. "Oh, so, what? This was all some sort of a lesson? Is that what you're telling me? Wow. Very creative" he deadpanned. Zachariah simply smirked proudly. Dean narrowed his eyes. "So, what? I'm just hallucinating all this? Is that it?"
"Not at all" Zachariah informed him pleasantly. "Real place, real people, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories." Dean was not amused. "Just to shake things up? Hm? So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?" He ripped the tie off, bunched it up and tossed it aside to illustrate his point. "To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood" Zachariah corrected, locking eyes with Dean. "You're a hunter. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you love it. You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time and you're miserable without it." He crossed his arms loosely, giving Dean an encouraging smile. "Dean, let's be real here. You're good at this. One might even say the best. You'll be successful. You WILL stop it." "Stop what" Dean demanded, having never really gotten a straight answer on this front from any of the angels. "The apocalypse? Lucifer? What?? Be specific, man."
"You'll do everything you're destined to do" Zachariah promised. "All of it." He dropped both arms to his sides with a mocking expression. "But I know, I know. You're not strong enough. You're scared. You got daddy issues. You can't do it. Right?" He was using most of what Dean had said himself in the hospital after Alistair had nearly killed him. Just adding quite a bit of hurtful attitude. Setting his jaw, he declared flatly, "angel or not, I will stab you in your face." Zachariah seemed unfazed by the threat. "All I'm saying is it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things." Dean turned away, his expression twisted. Zachariah continued trying to make his point clearer. "Save people, maybe even the whole world. All the while you drive a classic car and fornicate with women. This isn't a curse. It's a gift." Reaching out, he took Dean by the shoulder and turned him back around. "So for God's sakes, Dean, quit whining about it" he griped sternly, using the shoulder he was holding to push Dean back down into the desk chair. "And look around. There are plenty of fates far worse than yours." Dean couldn't really argue with that.
"So are you with me?" Zachariah raised an expectant eyebrow. "You wanna go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?" Dean took another minute to think it over.
And then stood up.
Fortunately, he was saved from having to endure anymore of these daunting thoughts by the arrival of Mr. Adler. "Got a minute" he wanted to know, poking his head into the office. "Sure, of course" Dean allowed, beckoning for him to enter. Mr. Adler took a seat opposite Dean, watching him for a minute before asking, "how are you feeling Dean?" "Great" Dean answered immediately. Mr. Adler tilted his head to one side. "You look a little tired. Been working hard, I gather." "Yeah." Dean shrugged modestly but Adler called him out on it. "Ah, don't be modest. I hear everything. And I'm pleased with what I'm hearing. That's why it's important to me that you're happy." He leaned forward to take a post-it note off of Dean's desk, which he scrawled a five digit sum onto and passed it over. "How's that for a bonus?" Dean stared at the $50,000 in front of him with wide eyes. "That's very generous." He started running a list of everything he could buy with that kind of money through his head. Mr. Adler smiled, leaning back in his chair again. "Purely selfish. Wanna make sure you're not going anywhere." "Wow." Dean whistled. "Are you sure?" Mr. Adler nodded firmly. "Positive. You are Sandover material, son. Real go-getter. Carving your own way." "Well...thanks, I try" Dean admitted vaguely, still distracted by the amount on the post-it.
"I see big things in your future Dean" Mr. Adler announced proudly. "Maybe even senior VP, Eastern Great Lakes Division. Don't get me wrong, you'll have to work for it. Seven days a week, lunch at your desk, working through weekends and holidays" he listed, finishing with, "but in eight to ten short years, that could be you." The thought of working that hard just to be stuck behind a desk, pushing paperwork was oddly unsettling for Dean. For any other Director of Marketing and Sales, the idea of a promotion to senior VP would be a dream come true. And, maybe it would have been for Dean too...had the offer come one day earlier. But now...
"Uh, well, thank you" Dean said gratefully. "Thank you, sir. It's, um...but..." He folded the note in half and placed it face down on the desk, sliding it back towards Mr. Adler. "I am giving my notice." The smile slid right off of his face. "This is a joke. You're kidding me, right?" Dean shook his head seriously, removing his headset next and tossing it aside. "No. I've—I recently—uh, very recently realized that I have some other work I have to do" he explained slowly, working through it all in his head. "It's, uh, very important to me." Sam had been right. Helping people by saving them from ghosts was more important than any desk, corporate douche job could ever be. And certainly more fun. "Other work" Mr. Adler repeated, concerned. "Another company?" "No, I—it's hard to explain" Dean assured him, gesturing around at the immaculate office space. "It's just that this—this is—it's just—it's not who I'm supposed to be" he concluded.
Mr. Adler's face split into a wide grin, which was not the reaction Dean was expecting. "What?" "Dean, Dean, Dean. Finally." Mr. Adler leaned forward, placing two fingers to Dean's forehead without warning.
~~~
"What the hell?" Dean looked around the office in confusion, then down at himself. He was more than a little disoriented. "Why am I wearing a tie?" His stomach growled, distracting him from this question. "My God, am I hungry." The man across from him chuckled. "Welcome back." It didn't take Dean too long to piece the puzzle together. "Wait. Did I—did I just get touched by..." He pointed accusingly. "You're an angel, aren't you?" "I'm Zachariah" he confirmed grandly. "Oh, great" Dean groaned, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "That's all I need is another one of you guys." "I'm hardly "another one", Dean" he corrected, standing tall and proud. "I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into one of these smelly things." He gestured with mild disgust at his human vessel. "But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row." Dean was on his feet in a second, his posture stiff. "I am not one of your ducks." "Starting with your attitude" Zachariah insisted hotly, getting right in Dean's face. Dean did not back down or shy away. "Oh, so, what? This was all some sort of a lesson? Is that what you're telling me? Wow. Very creative" he deadpanned. Zachariah simply smirked proudly. Dean narrowed his eyes. "So, what? I'm just hallucinating all this? Is that it?"
"Not at all" Zachariah informed him pleasantly. "Real place, real people, real haunting. Just plunked you in the middle without the benefit of your memories." Dean was not amused. "Just to shake things up? Hm? So you guys can have fun watching us run around like ass clowns in monkey suits?" He ripped the tie off, bunched it up and tossed it aside to illustrate his point. "To prove to you that the path you're on is truly in your blood" Zachariah corrected, locking eyes with Dean. "You're a hunter. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from hell, but because it is what you are. And you love it. You'll find your way to it in the dark every single time and you're miserable without it." He crossed his arms loosely, giving Dean an encouraging smile. "Dean, let's be real here. You're good at this. One might even say the best. You'll be successful. You WILL stop it." "Stop what" Dean demanded, having never really gotten a straight answer on this front from any of the angels. "The apocalypse? Lucifer? What?? Be specific, man."
"You'll do everything you're destined to do" Zachariah promised. "All of it." He dropped both arms to his sides with a mocking expression. "But I know, I know. You're not strong enough. You're scared. You got daddy issues. You can't do it. Right?" He was using most of what Dean had said himself in the hospital after Alistair had nearly killed him. Just adding quite a bit of hurtful attitude. Setting his jaw, he declared flatly, "angel or not, I will stab you in your face." Zachariah seemed unfazed by the threat. "All I'm saying is it's how you look at it. Most folks live and die without moving anything more than the dirt it takes to bury them. You get to change things." Dean turned away, his expression twisted. Zachariah continued trying to make his point clearer. "Save people, maybe even the whole world. All the while you drive a classic car and fornicate with women. This isn't a curse. It's a gift." Reaching out, he took Dean by the shoulder and turned him back around. "So for God's sakes, Dean, quit whining about it" he griped sternly, using the shoulder he was holding to push Dean back down into the desk chair. "And look around. There are plenty of fates far worse than yours." Dean couldn't really argue with that.
"So are you with me?" Zachariah raised an expectant eyebrow. "You wanna go steam yourself another latte? Or are you ready to stand up and be who you really are?" Dean took another minute to think it over.
And then stood up.
[THE END.]
