Post by Dean Winchester on Sept 23, 2015 11:30:38 GMT -5
ooc; SEASON FOUR. EPISODE TWENTY-TWO.
Dean stared out Bobby's library window with a brooding expression. His face still bore a few cuts and bruises from his fight with Sam the previous evening. And he was still having a hard time processing everything that had happened. The fact that he and Sam, who had once been closer than any two people on the face of the planet were now so far apart they might as well be on different hemispheres. "Dean?" But he was done dwelling over the events of yesterday. Done rehashing over every single detail of what had gone wrong between them over the past year. Done worrying about Sam and his actions. Just plain done. "Dean! You listen to a word I said?" Bobby stood behind Dean, trying to get his attention. "Yeah, I heard you" Dean muttered tonelessly. "I'm not calling him." "Don't make me get my gun, boy" Bobby threatened gruffly. Dean finally turned to face him with an exasperated expression. "We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon, don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?" "I know you're pissed" Bobby allowed understandingly. "And I'm not making apologies for what he's done, but he's your"- "Blood" Dean cut him off sharply, just the word blood making his own boil with anger. "He's my blood, is that what you were gonna say?"
"He's your brother" Bobby finished somberly. "And he's drowning." "Bobby, I tried to help him, I did" Dean insisted with a sad smile. "Look what happened." Bobby didn't back down. "Well try again." Dean shook his head resolutely. "It's too late." "There's no such thing" Bobby argued, but Dean had heard enough. "No, dammit" he snapped in frustration before calming himself slightly and expanding upon the refusal. "No. I gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life growing up. Ran away to Stanford first chance he got. Now it's like déjà vu all over again." He threw his arms up, then slumped onto the couch in defeat. "Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants." Bobby stared, flabbergasted by this statement. "You don't mean that" he whispered finally, looking massively concerned. "Yes I do, Bobby" Dean persisted with a heavy heart. "Sam's gone. He's gone. I'm not even sure if he's still my brother anymore." He looked off to one side miserably. "If he ever was."
There was silence in the library for maybe thirty seconds before Bobby made a big sweeping gesture with one hand, knocking everything from his desk to the ground loudly. "You stupid, stupid son of a bitch" he roared, fuming. "Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Make you an apple pie, maybe?" He grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt and pulled him to his feet, practically spitting in his face with the last two lines of his tirade. "They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!" Dean shook himself free of Bobby's grip. "I told him, "you walk out that door, don't come back" and he walked out anyway!" It still hurt him like a knife to the heart to think about this. "That was his choice!" "You sound like a whiny brat" Bobby informed him before shaking his head with dawning realization crashing across his features. "No, you sound like your dad" he amended. "Well, let me tell you something. Your dad was a coward." Dean's spine stiffened. "My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?" "He'd rather push Sam away than reach out to him" Bobby explained stiffly. "Well, that don't strike me as brave." Bobby fixed Dean with a gruffly affectionate look. "You are a better man than your daddy ever was. So you do both of us a favor. Don't be him." Dean looked away, feeling his throat tighten at the compliment, a barrage of mixed emotions flooding him. When he turned a few seconds later to address Bobby again, Bobby was no longer there. Neither was the library.
"Hello Dean." Castiel was standing across from him. They were both in a large, lavishly appointed room. The walls were painted white with gold trim and accents, and a marble table stood in the center regally. Castiel nodded seriously.
"It's almost time."
Dean stared out Bobby's library window with a brooding expression. His face still bore a few cuts and bruises from his fight with Sam the previous evening. And he was still having a hard time processing everything that had happened. The fact that he and Sam, who had once been closer than any two people on the face of the planet were now so far apart they might as well be on different hemispheres. "Dean?" But he was done dwelling over the events of yesterday. Done rehashing over every single detail of what had gone wrong between them over the past year. Done worrying about Sam and his actions. Just plain done. "Dean! You listen to a word I said?" Bobby stood behind Dean, trying to get his attention. "Yeah, I heard you" Dean muttered tonelessly. "I'm not calling him." "Don't make me get my gun, boy" Bobby threatened gruffly. Dean finally turned to face him with an exasperated expression. "We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon, don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?" "I know you're pissed" Bobby allowed understandingly. "And I'm not making apologies for what he's done, but he's your"- "Blood" Dean cut him off sharply, just the word blood making his own boil with anger. "He's my blood, is that what you were gonna say?"
"He's your brother" Bobby finished somberly. "And he's drowning." "Bobby, I tried to help him, I did" Dean insisted with a sad smile. "Look what happened." Bobby didn't back down. "Well try again." Dean shook his head resolutely. "It's too late." "There's no such thing" Bobby argued, but Dean had heard enough. "No, dammit" he snapped in frustration before calming himself slightly and expanding upon the refusal. "No. I gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life growing up. Ran away to Stanford first chance he got. Now it's like déjà vu all over again." He threw his arms up, then slumped onto the couch in defeat. "Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants." Bobby stared, flabbergasted by this statement. "You don't mean that" he whispered finally, looking massively concerned. "Yes I do, Bobby" Dean persisted with a heavy heart. "Sam's gone. He's gone. I'm not even sure if he's still my brother anymore." He looked off to one side miserably. "If he ever was."
There was silence in the library for maybe thirty seconds before Bobby made a big sweeping gesture with one hand, knocking everything from his desk to the ground loudly. "You stupid, stupid son of a bitch" he roared, fuming. "Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Make you an apple pie, maybe?" He grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt and pulled him to his feet, practically spitting in his face with the last two lines of his tirade. "They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!" Dean shook himself free of Bobby's grip. "I told him, "you walk out that door, don't come back" and he walked out anyway!" It still hurt him like a knife to the heart to think about this. "That was his choice!" "You sound like a whiny brat" Bobby informed him before shaking his head with dawning realization crashing across his features. "No, you sound like your dad" he amended. "Well, let me tell you something. Your dad was a coward." Dean's spine stiffened. "My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?" "He'd rather push Sam away than reach out to him" Bobby explained stiffly. "Well, that don't strike me as brave." Bobby fixed Dean with a gruffly affectionate look. "You are a better man than your daddy ever was. So you do both of us a favor. Don't be him." Dean looked away, feeling his throat tighten at the compliment, a barrage of mixed emotions flooding him. When he turned a few seconds later to address Bobby again, Bobby was no longer there. Neither was the library.
"Hello Dean." Castiel was standing across from him. They were both in a large, lavishly appointed room. The walls were painted white with gold trim and accents, and a marble table stood in the center regally. Castiel nodded seriously.
"It's almost time."
