hasperkynipples | civil war au } { please leave the light on for me

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civil war au } { please leave the light on for me

He doesn't see it coming.

He should have. He's a soldier, he's trained for these things. He should have expected that after so long of being occupied, the citizens of New Orleans would start striking back. There's no reason why they wouldn't pick off Union soldiers seen on their own. Dean had gotten complacent. Gotten sloppy. And now he was probably going to die before he could even make it back to his unit.

His hand stays pressed to his side as he continues to stumble up the street, trying to keep himself mobile as best he can. He hurts, everywhere from the beating he had taken and the blood is still leaking through his fingers. He's not going to make it. His parents, brother, they may be prepared for him to die in the heat of battle. He doesn't think they would appreciate hearing that he was killed by being jumped on the street.

He trips on a crack in the pathway, pitching forward into a nearby fence post with a pained groan. He tries to push himself back to his feet again, but he can't. His body drops to the ground, slumping against the fence as he does, trying to catch his breath. Things are starting to get hazy around the edges, but he still thinks that he can make out the faint sound of footsteps.

"Help me," he manages to whisper, unsure if he's talking to anyone at all. "Please."

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He shakes his head. "I wouldn't want to worry them, especially if I'm going to be fine." He shifts a bit before turning to her with a smile. "The cards sound like fun - so long as there is someone to play with."

"Oh, well maybe I could play with you? I don't know many card games and I certainly don't gamble, but I can follow along easily enough." She moved to search the room, thinking her father probably had a deck or two. After looking through the drawers of a sidebar with a cabinet on top, she pulled out a deck and returned, holding them out to him.

"Here we are. I will just move a chair closer and we can use this end table."

He takes the cards from her hands, glancing over them before nodding. "I'm sure I can teach you a few games. My brother and I used to play Gin Rummy when we were children."

He'll even shift a bit to try and sit up more, that way he could reach the table better.

Moving the furniture takes a minute since she has no wish to ask for help from the staff. It might be selfish, but she likes having him all to herself without supervision. It certainly wouldn't be seen as proper, but allowances have to be made. He hardly seems likely to advance on her when so injured.

"There now, is this close enough?" Her hands rest on the tabletop, willing to move it closer to him before she takes her own seat.

He turns to face her a little more, a slight wince at the motion, but he can sit enough that he can see the top of the table. "That's perfect. Thank you."

He then starts shuffling the cards. "Have you ever played this before?"

"No, never. But I promise you, I'm a good student." She sits on the edge of the armchair, watching him shuffle the cards. Playing cards isn't something young ladies are supposed to do, so she's never shuffled a deck herself. It looks challenging.

"Well, it's not too hard to play," he says with a nod. "Each player gets five cards. The idea is to fill your hand with either a straight, in one suit, or a full house - a pair, and a set of three. For each turn you pick up a card - either from the pot or the deck, and you put one down, but if you're going to pick up from the pot, you can only pick up the one on top."

He pauses with the deck in his hand, ready do deal. "Did I go too fast?"

Five cards... wait, what is a straight? Or a full house? And what is a pot and how does it differ from the deck? Oh, dear.

"I'm afraid so. I do not know what the, ah, the winning hands are? I do know a pair or set of three are all the same number, but I do not know any of the rest. Or what a pot is either." She flashes him an embarrassed smile, fiddling with her fingers in her lap.

"Would you explain it? I promise you I can understand quickly."

He smiles a bit before nodding. "I can do that."

He turns the deck over in his hand before sorting through the cards and pulling out a set of hearts, eight to queen. "A straight is five cards of the same suit that are in the right numbered order. You can't skip numbers in between or have a club or a spade in there instead."

He then adds the cards back into the deck and reshuffles them, before starting to deal a hand. "Now, once we both have our cards, I'll place the deck here, and flip the top card." He does so, revealing the top card on the deck, before pointing to it with his finger. "This is the pot. You have to pick up a card at the beginning of each turn, but you can never have more than five cards in your hand at a time. So, at the end of your turn, you discard one card into the pot."

Christine has a look of concentration on her face as he explains and when she takes her cards, she looks them over and nods.

"I've got it now, I'm sure. Thank you."

She begins moving the cards around in her hand, reordering them and staring critically at two of them, knowing she'll have to get rid of them.

"Who goes first?"

"Since I dealt the cards, you can go first. We can swap for the next hand." He leans back on the lounge to start sorting his own cards, waiting for her to take her turn.

After considering her cards, she throws one away and chooses another from the deck. If this was poker and she was betting, she would automatically lose due to her terrible poker face. Once she sees her replacement card, she pouts because it's not close to what she wanted. Her eyes lift to watch Dean take his turn, wondering if he'll fare any better.

Dean leans up a bit to peer at what she put down, before picking up from the deck instead. He shuffles the cards around, before placing one back on the pile. He has a much better poker face, but he likes that she's so easy to read. So few people he knows are.

"How many tries do we have to get the cards we need?" Her fingers pinch one card she wants to throw away, but she can make it work if she doesn't have anymore chances left.

He shakes his head. "As many turns as you need before someone wins. We can take all the time in the world if we needed to."

"Oh, really? Goodness, I am glad to know that." And now she discards one card and picks a new one from the deck. This one pleases her more and she squirms a little in excitement as she puts her cards in order.

He smiles a bit, before going through the process himself. He picks up a card from the deck, studying it critically for a moment, before tossing it back into the pot. He, apparently, is not getting as lucky.

Of course, the next few cards she receives in exchange for those she's thrown away aren't much better and she's left nibbling on her thumbnail, trying to decide whether she should keep trying for a full house or try to get a set of three.

"My, this can be frustrating, can't it?"

He chuckles a bit before nodding. "It can take a little time. But that's part of the fun of games like this. You can take the time to talk to your opponent."

"Oh." Her face flushes ever so slightly and she ducks down her head to look at her hand. It was simple to ask him questions when he was on the sidewalk and she in her room, or earlier while she was trying to distract him from the pain, but it feels even more bold a thing to do now. In fact this whole situation is very much not what a young lady of marriageable age should be doing. Her mother or at least a female chaperone should be in here with her, but she can't ask the servants to hold off on their work to humor her.

She peeks up at him through her lashes, looking a little intrigued.

"Would you like to talk to me, Private Winchester?"

He smirks a bit at the flush of her cheeks - he can't help himself. As polite as he is, his ego demands at least that much. But he lets it fade almost instantly, turning his gaze back down to his cards again.

"Only if you wish to speak with me, Miss Chapel."

It seems he's putting it into her hands, letting her pursue him. She admits to herself that he intrigues her, so she can't help but continue.

"I think I would like that. Let's see, what should I ask?" She lets the question hover in the air as she selects a new card and begins rearranging her hand.

"Would you happen to have a sweetheart back home?" May as well get the big question out of the way first, right?

He smirks a bit at that, before shaking his head. "No. Nothing lengthy at any rate." Nothing that really felt right, the way it should. It's not as though his family had any kind of wealth - there weren't women beating down the door to be his wife. But there were small things - a child's idea of love.

His answer makes a fresh blush bloom on her cheeks and she raises her cards a bit to hide behind them. The handsome, single young man in her drawing room is making her all aflutter. She has to remind herself that he's a Yankee and shouldn't be delighting in the fact that he's unattached.

"But you have family to write to you while you are away. That's good."

He nods, taking his turn with the cards before leaning back to let her take her turn. "It can take some time for me to get their letters, but it is still good to hear from them, even if it is delayed."

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