Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hasperkynipples) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ashorttriptohell2011-09-22 03:20 pm
hasperkynipples) wrote in ashorttriptohell2011-09-22 03:20 pm
Entry tags:
lana's apartment } { just can't deal with sitting still
It had been a week and a half since Sam died.
In that week and half, Dean's spent seventy-five percent of it drunk, which is better than the hundred percent it would have been if it hadn't been for Lana. In fact, if it hadn't been for Lana, he probably would have died of alcohol poisoning by now. He never would have made it to Indiana, and his promise to his brother would be broken, but that wouldn't really matter because he would have been dead.
He still wasn't all that convinced that him not being a dead is all that great an idea, but he's slowly warming up to the idea. Slowly. And Lana was a big part of that. Technically, he wasn't quite fulfilling the promise he made to his brother -- he was pretty sure that Lisa was mentioned specifically -- but Dean had a feeling that this was a better fit. Dean actually loved Lana. And he's seventy-five percent sure that she still loved him too.
Love wasn't always enough though. It had been a week and a half, and he still wanted to crawl into a bottle and never come out. There were still things after him, things that had left him demon and ghost proofing Lana's apartment like an insane person, and there's some small part of him that thought that she probably was thinking that he was just that, insane, but at the end of the day he was keeping her safe, whether he was there or not, and that alone made him feel better. But he still wasn't sure he fit. He knew that she had her friends and her life, and he was never going to fit into that scenario -- he never had in the first place, but he was even more broken than he was when he first came to Smallville. The Apocalypse had chewed him up and spit him out several times over, and he didn't know if he could do this. He was trying, but every once in a while he would have these moments.
Moments where he was alone, his eyes would fall on his car keys sitting on Lana's counter, and that urge to leave would rear it's ugly head. Sometimes it hit stronger than others, and today was one of those days. Lana was taking a shower, he was sitting in her living room, staring at the keys to his car, and before he could even stop himself, he was moving. He was getting up, crossing the room, and cool metal was in his hand. Next thing he was turning and heading for the door -- he needed to do this, rip off the band-aid and just be gone before he made things worse. Lana would understand later.
In fact, Lana would probably thank him for this later.
His hand closed around the door knob, and he pulled it open, but what was behind it stopped him dead in his tracks and kept him from going any further out of sheer surprise alone.
"Chloe," he managed to stammer out after a moment of dead silence. " ... Hi."
In that week and half, Dean's spent seventy-five percent of it drunk, which is better than the hundred percent it would have been if it hadn't been for Lana. In fact, if it hadn't been for Lana, he probably would have died of alcohol poisoning by now. He never would have made it to Indiana, and his promise to his brother would be broken, but that wouldn't really matter because he would have been dead.
He still wasn't all that convinced that him not being a dead is all that great an idea, but he's slowly warming up to the idea. Slowly. And Lana was a big part of that. Technically, he wasn't quite fulfilling the promise he made to his brother -- he was pretty sure that Lisa was mentioned specifically -- but Dean had a feeling that this was a better fit. Dean actually loved Lana. And he's seventy-five percent sure that she still loved him too.
Love wasn't always enough though. It had been a week and a half, and he still wanted to crawl into a bottle and never come out. There were still things after him, things that had left him demon and ghost proofing Lana's apartment like an insane person, and there's some small part of him that thought that she probably was thinking that he was just that, insane, but at the end of the day he was keeping her safe, whether he was there or not, and that alone made him feel better. But he still wasn't sure he fit. He knew that she had her friends and her life, and he was never going to fit into that scenario -- he never had in the first place, but he was even more broken than he was when he first came to Smallville. The Apocalypse had chewed him up and spit him out several times over, and he didn't know if he could do this. He was trying, but every once in a while he would have these moments.
Moments where he was alone, his eyes would fall on his car keys sitting on Lana's counter, and that urge to leave would rear it's ugly head. Sometimes it hit stronger than others, and today was one of those days. Lana was taking a shower, he was sitting in her living room, staring at the keys to his car, and before he could even stop himself, he was moving. He was getting up, crossing the room, and cool metal was in his hand. Next thing he was turning and heading for the door -- he needed to do this, rip off the band-aid and just be gone before he made things worse. Lana would understand later.
In fact, Lana would probably thank him for this later.
His hand closed around the door knob, and he pulled it open, but what was behind it stopped him dead in his tracks and kept him from going any further out of sheer surprise alone.
"Chloe," he managed to stammer out after a moment of dead silence. " ... Hi."
no subject
Lana shakes her head. "It's not your fault. It is what it is."
no subject
no subject
/scene