Dude, I'm batman

[Dean is sitting at the bar with an empty glass and a half a bottle of whiskey. He's watching the network instead of paying attention to anything else. He remembers this day and he dreads it and he looks forward to it. There's never any telling who will show up. Finally after a great deal of contemplation he picks the device up]

No. I don't do full frontal. No matter what the Asswipe who writes the books say.

[He considers a moment then amends]

Okay sometimes I do full frontal but not by request.

[Dean is armed to the teeth. He's spent most of this curse rescuing people from Hell. He finds them, ferries them to Oh Aces and heads out again. Things are getting hairy though...more hairy than usual]

Anyone that needs help out, let me know. I'll go anywhere but I'm not a psychic kid. I'm gonna need a heads up about where you are and who you are.

Hey Cas! How 'bout you get your shiny feather ass over here and help me! That'd be great.

[Private to other rescuers]

Heading down to the Ninth circle. Could use some help.

[Private to Angels]

If you see my brother, Sam out there. Let me know. He's probably...Lucifer right now. Still, need to know.

And do not gank him. Call me. I'll handle it.

Your nightmare might be complex. It might involve a dozen different kinds of monsters. It might involve harm and murder and terror. Dean's dreams have always been simple-always straight forward. He has one job-take care of Sammy-and he fails. Sometimes Sam dies, a knife in his back. Sometimes he gives in to Ruby. Sometimes it's Gordon. Sometimes it's a reaper or a spirit or a demon or a thousand other things they hunt. Today that failure takes the shape of Lucifer in a suit of blinding white.

"I suppose I should thank you, Dean. But if you don't mind, I'd like to find my daughter now."

Grief and horror are almost overwhelming. His mind scrambles to make this right and desperation rushes over him because he knows that there is nothing that will ever make this right.

"Ruby? The bitch we kill back home? Man, I know you're supposed to be proud of your kids no matter what they do but I'm gonna jump out on a limb here and say you gotta be so damn disappointed." His smirk turns to a growl. "Now give me back Sammy or I swear to God I will call Michael down, let him jump in with a few conditions and we'll see how that battle royale goes."

Sam's answer is laughter and a smile that couldn't be more innocent if he tried. "Dean. Dean." He's shaking his head and giving Dean that smile that makes Dean sick because it's so very Sam and yet nothing left of him at all. "You never understood. You never got it. You're too human. Or at least you pretend. We both know what went on in that pit and I think it's time you got in touch with the real you."

He lays a hand on Dean's shoulder, fingers squeezing hard enough to bruise, hard enough to keep Dean from getting away. Dean can feel everything inside of him burning away, bleeding out and being replaced by something darker, by something that was only beginning to be hinted at during his stay in Hell. Dean fights. He screams. He curses and he yells all while Lucifer smiles and holds him right where he wants him; like a bug pinned down. Then he's quiet, still and Lucifer is gone.

When Dean looks up at you, the grin is the same, twisted just enough to be a bit more wolfish, a bit more predatory. In fact his entire stance screams predatory and hunter. It's all Dean. It's all behavior he has and will exhibit but Dean's not home. His eyes are pitch black and you...well you're in for a treat.

There's a cross shaped table in the center of the room. There are implements of torture on another table. Have a seat. Let him get you a drink. We're going to have fun.



[ooc: This is a continuation of Sam's nightmare here. Each thread will be treated as individual iterations of the dream. If there's something particular you'd like to try, email me or IM me. I'm open for anything. It is possible some replies will come from Sam as well.]

[The device is sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala. For once the music is off. Dean is parked outside watching an impromptu baseball game between a father and his son. He grips the wheel of the Impala tightly so that his knuckles turn white. When he starts speaking it's softly.]

All I ever really wanted was Sam to get a normal life. To play baseball with our Dad. Do boy scout things with him--I don't even know what the hell boy scout things are but I wanted Sam to get to do it. Instead he got me staying up all night 'til I figured out soccer. We were never in one place long enough for Sam to join boy scouts.


People don't appreciate their normal lives. They don't realize how god damn lucky they are so they take it all for granted. I can teach the kid to play baseball later. I can skip boy scouts because there's a meeting next week. I can mow the lawn tomorrow. Or worse they bitch 'cause their lives are boring. They've gotta do this or that or something else.

Screw you all. You got to raise your kids the way you wanted to. You had time with them. You weren't crawling into bed with them holding a loaded shotgun at three in the morning because monsters are real and you're the only one there to protect them. You're not assuring your kid brother that he'll make new friends or stealing a bike that you're gonna have to leave behind when you move again.

[He shakes his head, cranks the car and pulls away from the curb]

It's all bullshit. You ought to appreciate the hell outta what you got.

[ooc: Dean is cursed with envy]

Everyone here bitches about this place. [He does a mocking, high pitched voice for this next part] Oh no. I got cursed. I think I'm in Hell. [And then his voice returns to typical broody Dean//Batman voice]

( Cut for possible squick talk about torture )

[Another pause]

Also, I think I've got...actual feelings for Anna. Like...bullshit hurts when they toss you out on your ass feelings.

Okay. Maybe this place is only four star.

[ooc: Dean is afflicted by the elephant in the corner curse. All he wants to talk about is Hell and liking Anna]

[There's a thump and the video turns on. It shows a good amount of naked torso, ribs and a shoulder that has a scar in the shape of a handprint on it. The person in the video groans, rolls and shifts a bit and the lower half of his face comes into view. The man runs his hands over his face and then realizes oh...]

Oh thank fuck

[The video zooms out a bit and shows Dean Winchester completely naked in front of the fountain. He's sitting up, legs bent just a bit to strategically hide any dangley parts but the City does get an eyeful of him.]

Really City? Cas managed to bring me back with clothes. Ever-friggin-body wants to see me nekkid. Includin' the deities.

[That's when he notices the camera is on. He snatches it and turns the video function off. If anyone is about they will see a naked man strolling very casually through the square toward his apartment. Modest? Hello? Have you met Dean Winchester?]

I don't know who gave Dean more userpics but I want to say THANK YOU. I am leaving in just a few minutes but uploading will commence tonight and tomorrow.

<3 Dean is grateful as well. Except his gratitude is worded more like 'About friggin' time someone recognizes how damn good looking I am'

:D I looooooooooooooove you whoever you are.

[Dean is exhausted. He hasn't slept the entire time he's been in the catacombs. He's starving because he also hasn't eaten and the only water he's had is the muddy little bit he managed to find trickling from some underground spring. Oh yeah, he's also bloody and in a hell of a lot of pain. Zombie bites hurt and when added to a laundry list of scrapes, bruises and cuts he's collected during multiple fights with the zombies he's on his last leg.The video for his device clicks on as he crouches above a corpse that has been dead a while yet remains juicy. He's rifling through a bag of some sort. That search produces a half full water bottle that he chugs and tosses before moving onto rifle through pockets.

That search? Just as productive. He comes up with an off brand fried apple pie. He takes one hesitant glance at the corpse. The fact that he has no desire to nom nom on this juicy corpse is something he's taking as a good sign. Maybe all the zombie movies are wrong and he just has to get the hell out of here and to a hospital.]

Sorry, Dude but since you aren't going to be eating this...

[And then all hesitation is gone as Dean rips the paper off the fried pie and starts practically inhaling it. He lets out a groan of absolute ecstasy, well aware that in any other circumstance this fried pie would probably taste like crap. He's so exhausted/hungry/thirsty/plain old distracted he doesn't see or hear the pair of zombies coming up behind him. One's already munching on his shoulder, saved from being zombie dinner only by the leather jacket he's still wearing. Dean swings his elbow back, the last bit of his apple pie forgotten and launches into combat. He started this adventure out being able to own the zombies but at this point they've had more rest, food and water (do zombies even drink?) than he has. He's pretty damn sure they're faster than him and stronger. Fuck Dawn of the Dead remakes for making zombies fast. He's holding his own with the machete at least until one gets their hands on what looks like femur.]

Great, I'm gonna be boned to death.

[The zombie knocks him hard upside the head with the leg bone and Dean goes down, blood trickling from his head. The other zombie leans in to take a bite and gets his hands on the machete. There's a thick, wet sound and then the lens of the device is squirted with blood. After that the video shuts off.]

[ooc: Part of the graves plot. Obviously Dean will not be responding however, feel free to threadjack/respond/yell/freak out at will. Sam or others may be replying to those comments. Yes, he's dead.]