Tell me, what makes you so special.

[Sam = likely_evil, who this is written for after forever and a day. Set after THIS.]

“What I look forward to is continued immaturity followed by death.”

Dean hated his birthday.

He was choosing to ignore it completely, avoid anyone who knew it was his birthday at all costs, and just do the freaking job. He was going to treat it like it was any other day, because the fact of the matter was that Dean Winchester was just not in the mood to be celebrating. It wasn’t like he had anyone to celebrate with, and he was content to just let the day pass without any kind of pomp and circumstance, and people were just going to have to deal with it. He might wave to it briefly as it passed by, but other than that, Dean was content to just leave it as it was. The wounds of Sam leaving him were still too raw, and when the only thing he ever wanted was his family together on his birthday, he certainly wasn’t going to celebrate it when Sam wasn’t there.

And he especially wasn’t going to use it for pity when seeking asylum from a woman who hated him. That was what the angels were for.

Back when the world first went to shit, before he died, Bobby went around to the various people who knew Sam and Dean, leaving them with fortified demon proof shelters in their basements. It was an underground network of sorts, places for the boys to hide to be hidden from demon company. Dean had held out with sending himself here, to this particular hiding place, because he knew that she, of all people, wasn’t going to believe he was on a mission from God to save the world, but there was no way he was going to make it out of New Orleans alive without her help, so it was with extreme reluctance—and two angels at his side—that he made his way down to the end of the bayou, pulling his car to a stop in front of Angeline Walker’s front porch. Fortunately for him, the woman was sitting on the porch, and it saved him the energy of having to actually walk up the stairs and knock on the door.

( *** )

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