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. "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."

"Oh? How long must you wait for each letter?" She threw away another card and picked up a new one. "It must be very hard, being away."

"A week, at least," he says with a nod. "Sometimes a little longer, depending on the weather and the condition of the roads. I know it doesn't seem like such a great stretch of time, but when you're used to speaking with someone every day ... " It adds up.

"Of course. Especially if you are very close." Not that she's close to anyone, but she has a yearning to be. Maybe someday she'll have that person and an hour apart will feel like an eternity.

Her eyes fall on her cards as she tries to decide whether three of a kind is better than anything he might have.

"If we think we have the cards we need, do we reveal them yet?"

He glances up and nods. "If you have the set you need, yes. You say gin and you put them down on the table." He's happy to take the distraction from talking about his family. Especially when he misses them as much as he does.

"All right." She shifts in her seat, clears her throat rather grandly, and says, "Gin!" Then she giggles and sets down three eights, glancing up at him to see if she's done it right.

He glances up a bit, before giving her a small smile. "Not quite. You need another pair to fill out the five cards."

Her eyes widen and her mouth forms an O-shape in surprise. Now she feels very silly for doing it incorrectly.

"Oh, dear, do I? Have I ruined my chances?" Quickly, she gathers her cards back up into her hand. "Could you perhaps pretend that you simply didn't see this?"

He nods before holding up a hand. "Just like it never happened. You can even take your turn again, if you like."

Oh, she likes him. It's completely unexpected, but she truly does. Her cheeks flush a little as she retakes her turn, discarding a card and receiving one just as worthless. She lifts her eyes to his, feeling shy now that he's been so generous when she was once so rude to him.

"Thank you. D'you need anything? Something to drink, perhaps?"

He pauses as he moves to take his turn, glancing briefly at the cards in his hand. "Some water would be good. If it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all! I'll be right back." She leaves her cards face down on the table and moves from the room to the kitchen, where she has the cook fetch her a glass. A minute later she returns, offering it to him.

"Here you are."

He shifts his cards to the side to take it from her, with a smile. "Thank you." Once he has it steady in his hand, he takes a long sip. "And it's your turn."

She peeks at him from behind her cards as he sips to make sure the action isn't causing him any pain. But he tolerates it well and she finds herself admiring him all the more. But the game requires her attention and she selects another card, pouting at her failure to match up her two remaining cards so she can have gin.

"I do declare; I think the card I need has scurried away under the settee somewhere." It's punctuated with a slight huff of irritation.

He laughs a bit at that, before moving to take his own turn. "It'll come. Sometimes it's just a matter of having the right luck." Besides, the sooner the game is over, the sooner he's sure she'll probably move on and give him some time to rest. He's not sure he wants that quite yet, even if he probably should.

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