dudeimbatman | 58th Hunt [Accidental Video]

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58th Hunt [Accidental Video]

[There’s a bump and a mishmash of mostly dark scenes that seem to be a hallway. The person with the device stops walking and the scene is that of an apartment door. The person stumbles and the device tumbles to the floor. Standing in front of an apartment door with his hands shoved in his pockets is Dean Winchester. He’s very clearly drunk, rumpled and has been at it a while. He's also dripping wet as if he might have capsized the boat he took over here a couple of times. He takes a deep breath and pounds on the apartment door]

Hey! Open up! It’s friggin’ Valentines Day and I wanna...shit...I don’t know what the hell I want but open up.

[ooc: Action for Anna

backseatangel Video || Voice open for everyone else]

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[She was sitting in the empty apartment, alone and brooding, her mood as dark as the water that had seeped into the City. The combination of Dean's voice through her communicator and through her front door was enough to make her jump. She's on her feet before the first pounds are complete and throwing the door open as his bellows finish.]

What do you think you're doing?

What the hell you think I'm doin'?

[Pro-tip...he has NO clue what he's doing.]

[Anna? is NOT amused.]

You're making a lot of loud noise and proving that excessive alcohol consumption leads to poor decision making.

Jesus, Dean. What the Hell are you doing?

So now my comin' to see you is a bad decision? You really know how to make a guy feel like shit.

[She stands to the side to allow him in if he likes. If he's going to be yelling, he might as well do it inside the apartment.]

Coming to see me drunk is a bad decision.

Goin' to talk to Anna. What the hell's it look like?

[He steps inside because she's got a point. Besides standing in the hallway just makes it easier for her to slam the door on him.]

S'why's that? Sorta figured one of us ought to have the guts to come talk 'bout it. My guts happen to be made of whiskey.

Talk about what, exactly?

[She closes the door behind him softly, not looking at him yet.]

Fuck if I know.

[Like he's going to open with what they should actually talk about. Drunk yes. Someone other than Dean, probably not]

Then leave.

[She's not in a mood to beat around the bush.]

Or say what you've come to say about the state our our relationship.

[That earns her a go to Hell look]

I thought Sam was the Winchester that hooked up with the bitchy women. You know, maybe I was wrong. I thought you were something besides a dick in a condom. I thought you were...fuck what I get for thinking.

Dean... [She's not trying to be mean, or petty, but this isn't the state he should be in for this conversation. But she knows him, and if this is what it's taken for him to try... the least she can do is listen.]

I'm sorry, please, sit down.

[He's pretty sure he wouldn't be having this conversation with her otherwise. Dean doesn't do touchy feely sober--even drunk his idea of touchy feely isn't most people's. He takes her up on her offer though and takes a seat on the couch, rubbing his hands over his face. He keeps his face buried in his hands. It might be easier to talk if he doesn't have to watch her. It still takes him several long seconds to speak]

You know the friggin' problem with caring about people? Shit goes crazy--and shit always goes crazy--and you gotta figure out how the hell to stop caring or how the hell to make everything right. I don't have a damn clue which one is easier to do. They both seem hard as shit right now.

[She moves slowly, silently easing herself into a seat next to him on the couch, leaving enough room between them so he doesn't feel crowded. Not speaking, she simply waits for him to say all of what he needs to say.]

It looks like you're making a drunken fool of yourself. This is how you're gonna win her back? Seriously?

[He glances over at Anna then stares back at the ground between his feet.]

And you've gone all...angel without any real...live person inside so I don't have a damn clue what the hell's goin' on in your head.

Who the hell said I was gonna try to 'win' her back? She's not some damn cheap stuffed animal at the fair.

You could try asking me. If you really want to know.

[She still sits quietly, watching him with an even expression.]

[Dean chuckles because what she's asking is hard. It puts him right out there for rejection and makes him vulnerable. Being vulnerable is something that goes against every instinct Dean has. He rolls his lips between his teeth and takes a deep breath then fishes a flask of whiskey out of the inside pocket of his jacket. He takes a swig then holds the flask in both hands.]

Didn't think I had to.

[It's more pleading for her to open up a little and drop that facade that makes this so hard.]

[She reaches out and takes the flask away, it's not doing him any favors, not tonight. Setting it on the coffee table, she takes his hand in both of hers, running a finger over his knuckles. She supposes she should be grateful they're not bruised and he hasn't been getting into fistfights like this.]

You want to know what's going on inside my head? I betrayed the trust of one of the few people I care about. I did something I've no right to ask forgiveness for and yet... that's all part of me wants. Another part says, better to end this now before things can get any worse. And the two arguing are exhausting.

You said you had two choices, stop caring or make things right. Which do you want?

[It takes him several long seconds to answer. His eyes are fixed on his hand folded between hers. For a second he can't say anything. It's all trapped in his chest, emotion strong enough to make it difficult to breathe. The thing about Dean is that he's crap with words. They either come out wrong or purpose or they just don't come out at all. Actions speak louder than words and that's never more true then it is with Dean.

In fact, going with his instinct usually works out better for him in the end. That's what he decides to do right now: Go with his instinct.

He reaches up to put one hand behind her head at the nape of her neck and pulls her into a kiss. It ought to answer the want question at least.]

[She barely has time to gasp before his lips are against hers and her eyes widen. She can taste the alcohol on his breath, his tongue and she knows that this isn't a way to make any decisions, but she doesn't pull him away. She can't. That voice in her head is telling her that this? This is the closest she'll get to that forgiveness.

Her hand reaches out to grab a fistful of his shirt, pulling him closer.]

[He relaxes a little when she pulls him closer. It's a little bit like the forgiveness and the absolution he's looking for because while he's bad with words, he's good at interpreting reactions. This is definitely an expression of emotion. Okay so it could be lust but he's felt lust before and this feels like more or maybe he just wants it to be more.

He threads his fingers through her hair while his other hand slides to the small of her back. No he won't ever give forgiveness. He's not sure he can for what she did but he can let it go. He can be okay with it. He can understand why and this is an expression of all of that.]

[This is Dean, and likely the closest he gets to telling her... whatever it is he need to tell her to make this okay. And it's not okay, not entirely okay, but the hard part is over, she hopes, in a rush of need and want and whatever it is this is.

But his body is warm and she's been realizing how long it's been that she's been back in the cold. Making a small sound in the back of her throat, she slides over and onto his lap, straddling him as the hand on his shirt slides up to play with his collar.]

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58th Hunt [Accidental Video]

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