tumbataure | 171st page

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mossy forest

171st page

After the hole is sealed and Ninurta's done away with, your entire party is bippity bopped to the other side of the forest. If there were stragglers that got separated, you're all in one place again. If you lost gear, weapons, phones, whatever, it's back on your person, functional again. If you lost any organs you're on your own though. No but basically you've been bewitched to safety out of the forest and the evil noises have stopped, you're homefree, homies. There's a crow perched on a rundown fence post along the road watching you with beady little eyes before it takes off back into the forest.

The map takes you to a rundown little bed and breakfast not but a fifteen minute walk out that looks like it was abandoned a while ago. No foul play, just closed for business, the economy is rough when you're located next to a haunted forest. Feel free to avail yourself of its beds, there's no room service but least you don't have to pay.

[Mission: get your bearings, make sure all your shits there, do a headcount, follow the road. call dibs on a room. rest up]

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I promise to vacate the premises once you fall asleep, Dean.
[ probably go scout ahead for the next stop on the map. ]

[ much more enthused now that he's gotten his way, even if it was manipulative of him, he explores his options for hanging up his boots. there's no chair, but there's actually a wide windowsill with a threadbare cushion that seems to serve the same purpose. there's no bath, but there is a washstand and he supposes that they must have passed beyond the borders of technological progress. ]

[you're a douche]

[follows him in shaking his head and kicks the door shut behind him, leaving his bag on the floor by the bed and dropping down to the mattress to untie his boots and peel them off. sits back after nabbing a bottle of beer he tucked away in his bag and looks over to him with a worry of his lip like he just realized the awkward reality of having a room to themselves after everything that's happened. even if it's covered in 10 layers of dust and he can hear the entire party of 15+ chatting away downstairs]

[weird beer opening silence]

[ takes place on perch. wornout old windowseat. ]

[ watches dean's winding-down routine until the distraction of settling in is gone. he knows he'll receive a fussy rebuttal if he's caught still watching once dean's still, worst-case scenario an early ejection from the room, and he's just getting comfortable. ]

[ listening to the weird beer opening silence. ]

[waits another couple beats until the silence gets past awkward into seriously what the fuck territory]

--Say something.

[opens his hands in front of him in a tiny gesture of frustration, except the one hand has a beer in it so it becomes the gesture tool like a teachers stick thing or something. it's a talk to me, but impatient style. there goes his you've gotten more patient award.]

[ takes that as his permission to look up from the smudged corner of window he wiped clean. ]

Something? About what, Dean.

[ drags a fingertip through the grime on the glass, idle movement, but he adds in enochian sigils and wards for protection. ]

I'm not trying to "freak you out," but it seems like you have something you want to say.

[toys with the rim of the bottle and sucks on a tooth in that working himself up to it way before looking up to him again at his doodling]

I don't know, man.

[takes a drank before setting it aside on rickety little dust table and getting up to wander over to the washbasin in his socks which is a really weird feeling in a hotel room. just kind of leans against the edge of it with both hands instead of doing anything though]

Doesn't it bother you? I know it was all some BS trick but going out like that, ghost fertilizer, yeah that's one thing, and you know me I ain't gonna cry about it when it's my time, but it's always for Sam or- worst case with Sam, I can't. Just leave him on his own.

[dem feelings. it just bothered him more than he'd like to admit, the prospect of kicking the bucket way out in bumfuck nowheresville way the hell away from him and everything. not how it's supposed to go.]

You got him home, Dean.

[ half-turns away from the window, finding Dean in his new position by the washstand. seeing him so affected is difficult, and cas knows that what he wants to do is cross the room and offer comfort. he also knows that dean wouldn't accept it. ]

You got him home, and you'll do the same yourself. All of Heaven and Hell haven't been able to separate you from your brother, not for long. Death Himself returned Sam's soul to your side. [ he scrawls three little symbols into the one untouched pane of glass, ג ז י. ] Gam zeh ya'avor. ...This too shall pass.

[ folds his hands and puts the window at his back. ]

And yes. It bothered me. I've left too much undone, made mistakes I need to rectify. If nothing else, I need to return and try and make amends. But...what bothered me most was being unable to save you. Unable to haul you out of the cold earth and raise you up.

[turns against the rickety stand to lean his butt up against it and tap his heel against the floor quietly while he talks cus that was a lot of words for a taciturn guy, only looking up to him when he says some shit in what is that hebrew with confused eyebrows until he explains and gets a little nod]

[there's that hesitation like he wants to say more about it, about how he doesn't even know if he did the right thing sending sam back because he really thought he was going to figure something out by now, you know, bust them out of here from the other side. but now he's just alone over there either way, so what was better, keeping him here where he knows he can keep him safe or sending him packing on his own? the longer it goes on the more he second guesses his decision. he knows sam would be pissed as hell about it, especially since he didn't have any say in it. but. there's nothing cas can do about it, and he's grateful he keeps going for the distraction. even if he was making weighty internal discussion faces for most of it.]

--S'not your fault. Dude, don't beat yourself up over it. Place just has it bad for makin you limp. [moves a hand off the table to wave it at him] Least you're all shiny and new car-smell fresh again.

[ winces, ever so slightly, when dean insists on using that euphemism. the suggestion of impotence didn't used to bother him much, and he can't exactly reason out why it's more uncomfortable now than it had been before. he shifts on the windowseat, hands on his thighs, and clears his throat before he looks up again. because of all the talking, not any other reason. ]

I'm relieved to be at full strength again, yes.

[looks away and scratches at the side of his face absently like he hasn't completely moved on from the emotions but he'll latch onto whatever else comes his way in the meantime]

Well enjoy it while you can. Smoke it while you got it and all that.

[given tumba's track record of unangeling him he means. you know, go prance with the bees or cloudhop or sing naked in the rain or whatever angels do in their freetime while they're not trying to start apocalypses or matchmaking]

[ already doing what he does in his free time. ]

[ not completely moved on from the emotions either. after all, there's a fairly large elephant in the room with them still, even after discussing the moose standing next to it. ]

I don't find smoking enjoyable...or attractive, but if I'm to believe what advertisements tell me, it's supposed to be "sexy."

[gives him a weird look as he pushes off the edge of the stand and loosens up his posture a little to shuffle in a circle, testing the water and blowing out a sigh when it just squeaks dryly in answer]

Yeah if you're from the 50s and so were poodle skirts.

[jim carrey hands at sink after he smacks the tap once. work. who would have thought an abandoned b&b wouldn't have running water.]

I was pleased to learn it wasn't one of your preferred vices.

[ unfolds himself from the windowseat and crosses the room while dean's back is turned to him. reaches his arm out underneath dean's gesturing to angeltap the faucet, which groans and rattles ominously before spitting out lukewarm water into the waiting pitcher. ]

[jerks his elbow up out of the way when he goes in for the faucet until he realizes that's what he was going for and kind of simmers down with an awkward huff]

...Thanks.

[for the jhorror water. that's not traumatizing. reaches over to turn it off after it's already spat out half a sinkful and does another aborted doubletake at him before leaning over to run his hand through it. make sure there's no floating haunted lady hair in it or some shit.]

[ it just looks like kind of silty water, probably from rain barrels or a water tower on the rooftop. ]

[ watches dean paw at it, with the same sort of expression you'd expect to see on the face of someone at a museum of fine art. ]

[ hovering, not realizing he's hovering, until he does realize because of all the tension gathering between dean's shoulderblades. sighs as he takes a step back to give dean his much-valued personal space. ]

[it's just a little baby elephant most of the time until cas decides to hover there like a freakin jerk and it becomes that elephant from that one gag story that killed the dude at the zoo]

[chances a look over his shoulder when he backs off before leaning over to splash the water over his face and work some of the dirt and whatever else out, pulling his shirt up to wipe it off and flicking his fingers dry over the bowl]

I miss water pressure.

[sulky but what can you do. turns back to him like that's the extent of his nighttime routine. i mean it basically is sans toothbrush and razors]

[ chews his bottom lip while the splashing and scrubbing sounds are going on. ]

[ it's really a bit of self-inflicted torture at this point, listening to this, the gentle human noises of dean's personal care and the rustling of his clothes as he tugs them to and fro. ]

[ but retreating all the way to the windowseat won't make it any less audible for him, either. ]

"Mojo" can't do much for that in this instance, I'm afraid. The closest I could do to accomodate would be...a rainstorm.

[gives him a look as he passes by him to drop down on the bed with a heavier flop than his usual fare like sweet, sweet creaky dusty mattress and reaches over the side to bring up the map from his bag, unfolding it like a newspaper over his stomach to go over it for lack of newspapers and internet to peruse for cases. more of a nighttime ritual than anything else.]

You're not my butler, man. Don't have to see to my every need.

But I am your friend. And I don't have needs of my own to see to.

[ shrugs his shoulders, even though it's a gesture that still needs a little practice before anyone could consider it one he's mastered. ]

[ looks over his shoulder at the abandoned windowseat, then forward toward the door. judging by where dean is on the checklist of winding down to sleep, it won't be long before he has to leave. no point in sitting down again now. ]

[this is the point where he'd talk about the next destination and set up some plot for the episode but we don't know about the next place yet so you're spared the exposition peppered with pop culture references to keep it interesting]

You're gonna get grass growin under your feet.

[looks up from fruitless map study at him doing his awkward should i stay or should i go dance. helpfully does not offer any indication as to which]

[ he said he would leave when dean falls asleep, and he isn't going until then. not a moment sooner. ]

Not my fault. You've been staring at the map for six minutes, but the dilation of your eyes means you haven't even been looking at it for the past four.

[ crosses his arms over his chest and shifts his weight to one hip. ]

Are you going to sleep, or not?

But it's not even my bedtime yet.

[don't sass me i'm gonna sass you you're in my room bitch. sets paper down and leans down to grab a pencil to start marking up the map with commentary. it's like, he has to keep himself busy and do something otherwise he's just floating through letting shit happen to him. if he doesn't even make an attempt to figure out what's going on ahead of time.]

Man I got work to do, you think running a group this size is easy? And you do know just standing there watching waiting for me to fall asleep isn't any less creepy than watching me sleep right?

[without looking up as he takes down some other noteworthy things from recent events in another notebook. it's like johns journal v2, because unlike some people he realizes he's not actually familiar with everything here and it'd be a good idea to keep records of it for future reference]

[ well now he's interested. ]

[ looks down at his feet like. there's no grass here fuck you. then takes a few steps toward dean's left side, coming close enough to the side of the mattress and his elbow that he can look over and see what dean's working on. zeroes in on the little doodles and sketches in the notebook, blocky little representations of some of the ghosts and creatures that had appeared in the dark forest. ]

...it didn't look like that. The teeth, you're exaggerating them.

Oh you wanna do it Michelangelo?

[looks down at his drawing with defensive eyebrows and mouthshrugs. good enough. better than sam. glances back up and over at him hovering again and pauses for a second like that before clearing his throat and scooting over a little to make room]

I didn't say it wasn't skillfully done. I said it was exaggerated.

[ sits without looking, still focused on the content of dean's narrative, lips twisting this way and that at the distinctive way he has of chronicling their trials and tribulations. it's easy to hear the words on the page as though they'd been said aloud by his voice, even though dean's just pursing his lips, silent. ]

When did you start doing this?

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