Dude, I'm batman

[The device is nudged and turns on accidentally. There's a sleepy yawn coming from the bundle of blankets on the bed. After a moment a head emerges, the spiky hair and freckled face of a little boy. If one looks closely though, it's clear that this is still Dean. He's simply eight years old today rather than thirty two. He looks a bit confused as he crawls out of bed, barely catching the sweatpants at the waist. They're much too big for him.]

Sam! Sammy!

[He was pretty sure when he crawled into bed that night, Sam was already asleep. He pads into the bathroom.] Sam! Where'd you wander off to?

[And that tone of voice, that is eight year old panic. Dean rushes back into the room and reaches under the bed, grabbing the sawed off shotgun there. Yes, even at eight he kept a sawed off shotgun under the bed.]

That makes you Lois Lane.

[Dean whips around confused, poised to yell Cas' name. It quickly becomes evident that this isn't Cas' fault. Dean's expression sets solidly to bitch face as he reaches out to put a hand on Sam's shoulder and assure himself his brother is there.]

Sammy, you good?

[Sam jumps a little at the touch, if only because they are suddenly not where they should be.]

I'm good, but. I mean, are we--? Is this the City?

[Dean glances furtively around, twisting to one side and then the other, unwilling to move too far away from Sam.]

Cas? You still here?

[And in glorious, wonderful, City tradition, Dean is promptly, absolutely, defintiely, immediately cursed]

Guess that's my weakness. Loyalty. I know there's damn good evidence that Cas has gone dark side and...he wouldn't do that to me but I gotta say, there's this itch I can't scratch. Like I know I'm being manipulated. Like every damn time some friggin' demon and dick angel uses Sam to get me to play their games.

It's there and I don't want it to be. Cas is our friend. He's saved our asses time and again. He's the only friggin' angel that hasn't betrayed us. He deserves our loyalty.

[He sounds a little like he's trying to convince himself. And Sam's standing there, just staring at him for the entirety of his rant, mostly because he knows otherwise, but also because--.]

Dude. Are you cursed already?

[ooc: Dean and Sam have been out of the City for nearly a week for canon update. They are now updated to 6X20 The Man Who Would Be King during the conversation with Bobby about Superman going darkside and kyrptonite. The violent pink is Sam because Dean is awesome that way]

[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.

[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]