(no subject)

[hector-aframian.livejournal.com]

Dean hates Kansas.

Dean hates Metropolis. It's got no right sittin' there in the middle of Kansas, out of place as a fuckin' donkey at a ball. He knows America and he knows the roads and the highways and he fucking hates that this world's twisted them all around.

Dean hates Lawrence. Sammy's still there. And Dean's not going back.

Dean hates himself, too, for that.




A surefire cure for angry emo bitterness is beating the shit out of people, however, and fortunately there's a lot of shit going round. Suburbs of Metropolis, clubs, late at night, there's always some chick he can bail outta trouble. That way he gets to beat people up and then gets laid.



Presently, Dean is in a back alley, glaring at a guy on the ground who thought he'd drag some naive little chick into the mens' room even though she was fighting. Jerk. And worse, not even a tough jerk. Dean's not even breathing hard. Waste of a fucking fight.



Yeah ... Dean hates Metropolis.

Comments

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo arched an eyebrow.

"What kind of deal?"

[hector-aframian.livejournal.com]

"His sister died."

Dean shrugs.

[tobeclosetohim]

Other eyebrow joined the first.

(Not lacking the moment when she glanced away at first reaction.)

"And he thinks you can--?"

[hector-aframian.livejournal.com]

Dean shrugs again, looking away, leaning back against the alley wall and stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets.

"He's a little too interested to make me completely comfortable."

And yet Dean's helping him anyway. Because ... siblings.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo frowned, stopping her pace but not near the wall.

Standing a few feet from him.

"Stupid interested?"