hasperkynipples | [revenge is supernatural] I'm busy in the blissful unaware

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[revenge is supernatural] I'm busy in the blissful unaware

Dean knows when he's been whammied, a lot of the time Most of the time, actually.

Well, seventy-five percent of the time.

He used to be able to tell when he's being whammied. Then he started to work for Fringe Divison, and that percentage went down quite a bit. There were ways of being whammied that he hadn't even thought of and he was doing his best to distinguish between the two. He had thought he was doing pretty well with all of it. At least, until he walked into his hotel room after having drinks with Anna and found Azazel standing there.

Then he promptly proceeded to flip the fuck out.

First of all, he wasn't sure how he got in there. He might have been seventy-five percent out of the game, but he still salted all his doors and windows, so this was very much a no demon zone. Follow that up with the fact that he shot Azazel, right in the heart, three years ago, Dean was starting to wonder if his and Sam stopping the Apocalpyse had gone a little screwy. If it did, Dean's life was about to start seriously sucking. Then there was a struggle, some confusion, and then Dean passed out like a whimpy girl for a reason he wasn't sure about. He knew what he saw. But Dean wasn't exactly trusting his eyes at the moment.

As Dean started to come to, he rolled into a sitting position and glanced around. He was still in his hotel room, but his head hurt like a bitch and ... well, there was a giant Sam doppleganger sitting in the other end of the room. Dean clearly hit his head harder than he thought, or Walter slipped him the happy drugs again. Either way, Dean was pretty sure he was fucked.

" ... This is ... new."

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Sam had caught wind of the djinns going after his brother right around the time Samuel had saved Sam from them. Revenge was a dish best served cold, and apparently the time had come.

He had been keeping tabs on Dean and Anna ever since he had gotten his bearings after coming back to life. Staying in shadows, poking his head around corners whenever he happened to be in the area on a job.

They had both moved on. Hell, they were both happy and Sam could even see the spark of something starting back in them at a stage they probably wouldn't even notice it at. But he did, being the outsider.

They weren't fighting. Between the two of them, that meant a lot.

But he hadn't seen the djinn in Dean's hotel room until the shadow went across the shades on the 5th floor. By the time he got up and found the room, they had already poisoned him. He took the djinn out and gave his brother the antidote, but he wasn't going to leave until he saw his brother was okay with his own eyes.

Even if it meant that his shadow hiding ways had to end as a result.

"You're gonna want to take it easy," he said, relieved and trying not to look too excited. "Drink some water."

Edited 2010-10-12 02:35 (UTC)

Dean stared for a good long minute. His brain wasn't entirely sure what to make of what's sitting in front of him, so he's just going to hold up a finger, push himself to his feet, and head out the door. He didn't stop to glance at the Sam that was sitting in his room, because clearly he was hallucinating some more, and just knocked on the door across the hall and waited for the man behind it to answer.

Sam just sighed and hung his head a moment before getting up and moving to stand in the doorway, leaning on the frame.

"So, we're going with the 'he's not really there' route. Which, I admit is better than then being stabbed with the silver knife in your boot. But we'll go with it."

He waited for the door to open, seeing the man he had seen a few times while watching Dean, and waved.

See, Walter clearly slipped him the good stuff. Because this particular hallucination was far too Sam-like for his own good. When Walter opened the door, he gave him a smile.

"Hello, Agent Winchester," Walter nodded, returning the smile. "Is something wrong?"

"Walter -- did you happen to slip me something? Again?"

Walter looked confused -- it was a look that Dean saw often. "No, no of course not. You specifically told me not to after the plane incident."

Dean paused, considering that for a moment, before pointing back over his shoulder with one hand while the other took stock of the situation. No gun, no knife, but Peter's shoulder holster was hanging in the doorway of the room. "Is there a freakishly large man standing behind me?"

"Yes, of course, though I wouldn't say freakishly so. I met a man once who loomed at about eight feet tall. He was rather impressive," Walter said with a wide smile as he waved back at Sam. "But your friend seems very nice."

"Uh-huh," Dean replied, reaching forward into the room to pick up the piece, before nodding back to Walter. "Sorry to have bothered you. Go back to bed."

Walter nodded, even if he looked concerned. Once the door closed, Dean turned around and pointed the gun evenly at the thing pretending to be his brother. "Don't say a word. Go back in the room."

Sam chuckled, liking the older man already. He wasn't surprised at the gun at all and just sighed and held up his hands, taking a few steps backwards. This was a lot more about what he expected.

He waited patiently for Dean to make his next move, really hoping that he would get a chance to explain before needing to dodge a bullet and disarm his brother.

After Dean closed the door to the hotel room behind him, he turned back to not-Sam and proceeded with his personal form of interrogation. Olivia didn't really approve of questions asked at gunpoint, but in this particular situation he felt it was appropriate.

"Alright. You have about five seconds to tell me exactly what the hell is going on here, or I'm going to shoot you. When I shoot you, you're either going to bleed mercury and then I'm gonna shoot you some more till your dead, or you're going to bleed, but you're not exactly going to die either, so I'll shoot you some more, just for fun. Got it?"

Sam rolled his eyes and held out his hand. "Dean, it's really me. And I think I will actually die again if you shoot me. I'd rather prefer not to right now, however, you can hand me your holy water flask and silver knife, and I can eliminate most of those concerns."

The gun didn't lower. Dean was too careful for that. He made his way over to the bag he'd dropped in the corner and fumbled out the silver knife, before tossing it over to him. "That first."

While he was doing that, Dean was mentally checking the doors and windows to see if there were any breaks in the salt lines that a demon could have slipped through.

Sam held the blade in his left hand as he rolled up the sleeve. There were a few cuts there that had healed over from other times he had to prove this.

He looked at Dean, then carefully cut into the flesh. He hissed a bit, but apparently you could get used to this after awhile.

"Next test? And I'd prefer not to rub salt into it. That stings like a bitch no matter what you are."

Okay. Normal everyday shapeshifter was out. And he bled actual human blood, so that eliminated the ones from the other side as well. All the salt lines were intact as well, so he was pretty sure that Sam wasn't a demon either. As far as things seemed to be, he was one hundred percent human.

Dean still didn't lower the gun.

"Walter called me Agent Winchester."

"I know. I've heard a few people call you that over the last few months. Never imagined you becoming a real Fed."

He sighed and looked around. "Mind if I get something to to keep from bleeding all over the place?"

"Yes. I do mind. Because you just said a few months, and as far as I know, this is the first time you've actually decided to let your brother know that you're alive."

Oh, to say Dean was unhappy was an understatement. Dean was really pissed off, and he wasn't in the mood to have Sam of all people fucking with his head.

"What the hell is going on, Sam?"

Sam sighed, and didn't care about Dean's temper tantrum as he walked over to the sink to wash his arm. He knew his brother wouldn't shoot him now that he knew it really was Sam.

"You were being hunted by a djinn. I barely got here in time, and it had already poisoned you. Luckily I had the antidote on me, or you'd be dead."

He looked at his brother and smirked. "You're welcome, by the way."

"A djinn?" Dean frowned, before shaking his head a bit. "That doesn't make any sense. Djinn are cave dwellers. I haven't been near any caves lately, even with the insanity of my job."

Job. It was weird to be saying to Sam and not talking about hunting, but it was the truth. "Plus, they kinda stand out. I think I would have noticed if I ran into one."

"You haven't met these kinds of djinn." He chuckled a bit, turning off the water and pressing one of the fancy washcloths against his forearm. "They pass as human. Look just like you and me. Except for when they work their mojo and those tattoos come out."

"Damn," Dean said softly, running a hand over his face. "That's not good." Not good in the slightest. Djinn that could pass as people? Everyone as they know it would be screwed.

"So why'd it come after me? I mean, I'm out. Or as out as I can get."

"I think it had to do with the djinn we took out a few years ago. Revenge or something like that."

He leaned on the counter now, watching Dean. "They came after me first. That's how I knew how to save you."

"Oh. Okay. That makes me feel a lot better." Dean glared back at his brother again. "So where have you been, exactly?"

"Around. Hunting mostly. Trying to figure out how I got pulled out of the pit." He shrugged. "No answers yet, so I keep looking."

"Around. Hunting. Well, that's just great." Dean grit his teeth, trying not to get too angry. "I'm glad to see that hunting alone on your own is the smart, well-thought out conclusion that you came to when you found yourself alive again."

He paused for a moment, before meeting his brother's eyes. "And how long have you been doing this, exactly?"

"I actually came to find you first, but you had just started with this job and... I didn't want to ruin it for you."

He shrugged and sucked on his lips a moment as he looked Dean back in the eye. "I've been back a few months. And I'm not hunting alone. And When I figured out how I got back, I was going to come and tell you."

"Ever think that maybe we could have helped?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. "Olivia has access to resources that we never would have had on our own, never mind the fact that Walter's a friggin' genius."

"I did. But I'm not all that fond of being analyzed like an amoeba on a petry dish." Sam rolled his eyes. "Which you know is exactly what I would become."

"You know, Walter really isn't that bad. But good to know that you have enough faith in me that you think I would put you in that kind of situation."

"Dean, I wouldn't doubt that if Walter felt something would help me, you would convince me to go along with him. I would do the same for you in return because I'd be more worried about your welfare than your feelings."

He gave his brother the 'I know you' look.

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