[OPEN] Getting Back Into the Groove [R for cussing most likely]

[pie-bitches.livejournal.com]

Where has Dean been, do you ask?

Well, for one, he's been relaxing. That mission thing? Ridiculous. Dean's pretty sure he's not going to be emotionally traumatized, because hell, obviously he's been through worse, but man, that was one hell of a trip. So he's in the mindset of believing that yes, he deserves some downtime. That's why he's in the Sensoriums, his favorite usual hang out on the giant meatship. The room's turned into Bobby's junkyard again, only this time he's got his Impala. He's working on fixing the problems he'd told Stacy to program into the car, and really, this is probably the most relaxing thing he's done in a while.

Of course, he wouldn't mind having some company. He's thinking about seeing if Stacy can conjure him up a Bobby, just to have someone to banter with, but he hasn't really decided yet. So at the moment, he's under the hood of the Impala, messing with something with a wrench while Led Zeppelin's You Shook Me plays from a boombox nearby. He may or may not be singing along as he works.

Life is good.

Comments

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

Sam shrugged. "Who cares? Really? She doesn't know what we do. Well, ok, she does because I told her but she hasn't seen what it's like. She hasn't live it. And if she wants to be closed-minded, judgmental and self-righteous, then let her. Hell, it's not like there aren't a hundred other people on board to talk to."

[pie-bitches.livejournal.com]

And there it is, Sam's (usually) sound reasoning. Dean stops, and takes a deep breath. It's true, it's not like he has to talk to her. But her words still stung, and Dean has a hard enough time justifying his actions to himself without someone questioning them.

"Yeah," Dean agrees, not looking at Sam for the moment. "Yeah, I know. It's just-- I'm not... yeah. Alright."

Dean turns back to the junk pile, and when he speaks, his voice is incredibly bitter.

"Hell, it's not like people thank us anyways."

[demonbloodsam.livejournal.com]

"No, not usually," Sam agreed. He leaned forward in his seat and rested his arms on his thighs. "Usually they're calling the cops. But, it's like you said, we don't do it for the money or for the credit, Dean. We do it for them. Whether they know it or not."

[re-hymenated.livejournal.com]

There's a pause as that sinks in, and then Dean sighs.

"Dammit, Sammy," Dean says, looking over his shoulder, a hint of a grin on his face. His tone's a lot less angry and a lot more teasing. "You can't just let me be pissed, huh?"

[demonbloodsam.livejournal.com]

"Sure I can," Sam said with a firm nod, his tone just as teasing. "You're ugly."

[re-hymenated.livejournal.com]

"Not as ugly as you, Sasquatch," Dean replies smoothly, grinning now.

[thenameissam.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, ok," Sam said, smiling, silently admitting to himself that--despite the inherent danger--he really was glad Dean was here now. "I suppose that's why all the girls like me better than you."

[pie-bitches.livejournal.com]

"That's because for some reason, all the girls have terrible taste," Dean says. "Or the food here has some sort of drug in it, which, honestly? Wouldn't surprise me."