024 - Himalayan Blackberry

[deadly_ned]

I didn't make it home in time for Halloween. A...twenty-year-old tradition. Broken just like that.

I don't know if that's a sign to move on or a sign I've been here too long or not a sign at all, just an odd and unfortunate coincidence.



[Private to Alpha]

Checking in.

[Private to Dean]

I'm going to go...pick up Digby and then. Come to your room.

I'm death-tolling. For the first time. I'm death-tolling.

[Spam to Hannibal]

[Though lethargic and in a significant amount of pain, the Piemaker still struggles to Hannibal Lecter's door with alarming resolve, intent on reclaiming his dog. He holds the doorframe with one hand, pale and panting, before giving a quiet knock on the door]

Comments

Spam, later

[composited]

I don't know yet. The problem with having a feast of choice after a famine is you don't know where to start, what tastes good, and what'll sour your stomach. It all looks good but it's all foreign delicacies.

Anyway. Baking. We can work with that. After you sleep.

Spam, later

[surfaceshine]

[Dean knows Alpha is there; not immediately, but he's listening for Ned, so he knows someone is there. They stay there, and the hunter has absolutely no intention of going out there himself, so he leaves it alone.

When Ned finally knocks, it takes Dean a while to get there. He's pale and he's cold and he's dressed to match in trackpants, a t-shirt and an oversized hoodie, and he's never putting his Colt down again outside of his reach. Once he sees who it is he opens the door wider, uncocks the gun, but just lets it down to his side.

He glances at Alpha, then Ned, then down at Digby. Turns his palm out towards the dog after a moment.]

Sorry to interrupt. [...what...ever is going on out here... Add Dean to the list of people who shouldn't be talking, though he's got a day or so on the other two.]

Re: Spam, later

[deadly_ned]

[Digby in turn happily trots over to Dean, looking up at him and settling down just in front of the man's shoes. Hello, Dean.

the Piemaker in turn steps aside to let Alpha enter first, giving a weary nod to Dean]

No. I mean. You weren't.

Thank you for letting us in.

Spam, later

[composited]

[ Alpha pauses, and then shakes his head. ]

No need. I'm fine with my room if you're taken care of. I'm not hurting.

[ Mostly because he's emotionally empty and just sort of faking it as his brain attempts to reorganize itself. ]

Spam, later

[surfaceshine]

[Dean allows himself to be distracted by Digby for a moment, reaching down just enough to scratch behind his ears. His attention is still on the two men, though, and will be until the door is closed and locked again, whoever ends up on whichever side of it.

Dean isn't in great shape either, and he doesn't bother wasting energy showing that. The stare he levels on Alpha while he refuses isn't openly hostile but it's not friendly, either, it's not anything at all. He tilts his own head, glances at Ned, back again.]

In or out, boys, I'm not trying to heat the hallway. [Tired, but as genuine as he can be.]

Spam, later

[deadly_ned]

[By this point, the Piemaker's been made aware of what's been done to Alpha's head. He wants him to stay so that he'll be around when Alpha returns to normal over a slow period of time, but posing it as an order is not the right way to do it.

He turns to look at his inmate, biting his lip]

Would you stay?

Spam, later

[composited]

[ Alpha looks between them, blue eyes with a forced lightness to them, a sparkle that's all rhinestone. Then he types out: ]

Do you want me to?

Spam, later

[surfaceshine]

[Dean waits, and here again he finds himself ignoring all common sense because he knows how hard Ned has fought for this, wanted this. He's silent.]

Spam, later

[deadly_ned]

[The answer comes less than a second later.]

Of course I do.

Spam, later

[composited]

[ Well, okay then. Alpha nods once, complacent and confused, but trails after his warden like an obedient Doll with his handler, paying little mind to poor Dean. ]

Spam, later

[surfaceshine]

[The hunter stands back out of the way, and closes the door behind them both.

His cabin is larger than it has been for the majority of his stay on the Barge, newly expanded just last month to include the TV and X-Box in the corner, and the untouched, unfinished kitchen in the other; it's still studio style, still obviously a generic hotel room under the wear and tear of almost two years of being lived in, and it's messy now. Unmade bed, dirty clothes and clean clothes alike scattered around, a few towels, only a couple heavier jackets left hanging up in the open closet. There's a writing desk, a large reclining couch, the bed against one wall, a record player and a mini fridge, and not a lot else. A large bookshelf in the corner with only two books on it. A Led Zeppelin poster. The salt line at the door, and the wards hidden in the corners, the Devil's Trap above the door.

Dean crosses to the closet, picking up a few discarded articles of clothing as he goes, tossing them into the corner to deal with later.]

Make yourselves at home. I'm gonna grab a shower and... I don't know. Head out or something.

Spam, later

[deadly_ned]

[Digby does, indeed, make himself at home. He trots inside, hopping up on the unmade bed and making a nest for himself. He settles, putting his head on his paws and looking at warden and inmate coming through the door.

The Piemaker is less enthusiastic, and inches inside with his arms hugged tight to his chest. He looks around, biting his lip, before making his way to the couch]

Thank you.

Head out..?

Re: Spam, later

[composited]

[ Alpha didn't care about propriety-- or anything else-- an simply sat on the bed, and pet Digby. Dean and Ned could work things out. ]

Spam, later

[surfaceshine]

[Dean casts a dark look in Alpha's direction -] Couch is free. Bed's not. [- before looking back to Ned.]

Yeah. You're tolling, squeaker. You need your beauty sleep and I need to check on some things.

[Lying is easy. So much easier than saying anything else about it.]

Spam, later

[deadly_ned]

[The Piemaker looks over, anxiously sending his own mental prodding to his inmate to gently urge him from the bed, if only to placate their host. Digby, for his part, listens and climbs from bed to couch.

He gives a weary shrug, too tired to be embarrassed by the nickname said in front of Alpha]

Just so long as you're not. Dragging me to the infirmary.

Spam, later

[composited]

[ Alpha follows Digby -- not because he cares about what Dean said, but because Digby is strangely comforting still. This is as close to Doll state as he can remember ever being, of being Alpha for the first time, not understanding or feeling, simply -- being. ]

[ Later, he'll think about killing Vin for it. For now, he pets the dog. ]

Spam, later

[surfaceshine]

[Assuaged, Dean goes back to collecting a set of clothes somewhat mindlessly. He shakes his head.]

This is a no-dragging zone as long as you're not actively bleeding out.

Explain the rules to Chachi there. There's beer in the fridge.

Spam, later

[deadly_ned]

[Digby in turn settles against Alpha's legs, resting his head on the man's thigh to be within petting distance. Idly, the Piemaker takes natural advantage of Alpha's docile mood and pulls a blanket from the couch, draping it over Doll and dog.]

[Once those two are settled in, he turns to start helping Dean, near collapsing when one of his knees buckles unexpectedly]


...I will. Alpha and me. We'll behave ourselves here. We're guests.

Spam, later

[composited]

[ Faintly, Alpha repeats the words behave ourselves, not even thinking about it as he pets the dog gently. Then he says, as if bored: ] You don't like me. I can go.

Spam, later

[surfaceshine]

[Dean isn't anywhere near his prime in any sense of the word, but his reflex is still to reach out and grab Ned's shoulder when he falters, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt. It wouldn't be enough to stop him if he were going down completely, but it can be enough to steady him.

He snorts quietly, and gently shoves Ned towards the couch, too.]

No, I don't, and I'll like you less if you give Ned fits right now. Just stay out of the bed and stay out of the desk.

Spam, later

[deadly_ned]

[Stretching out a hand so he catches himself against the back of the couch, with Dean's help the Piemaker prevents himself from needing to take a knee. He willingly lets himself be pushed into sitting on the couch, dropping down beside Alpha and dropping his head against the back of the cushions in exhaustion]

He's..not a bad person. Alpha.

[It's exhaustion and death-toll delirium speaking, but the Piemaker still makes an effort to make himself be heard]

He's a good. Person.

Spam, later

[composited]

If you say so.

[ Alpha's eyes rise to fix on Dean. Pale and watery blue, he stares at Dean for a long moment. He'll remember what he said, when he's normal. But then he looks to Ned. ]

You should sleep.

Spam, later

[surfaceshine]

Seconded.

[Dean stares back, not in challenge, but in weariness, his own dark hazelgreen foggy with it but steady. He's not going to lie. And regardless of his feelings on the matter, Alpha is still sitting on his couch, and they're in agreement on this much.

The hunter steps back from the couch, grabs a towel that's probably clean, and heads for the bathroom.]

I'll lock up on the way out, and check in around dinner time if you aren't already up.

Spam, later

[deadly_ned]

[Obedient to the end, the Piemaker is already drifting. He keeps his hands to himself - especially for fear of touching Digby - and closes his eyes, resting his head down]

No, that. That sounds best.

Spam, later

[composited]

[ Alpha just waits. Where there is little emotional tenor, dolls are very good at obeying the letter of instruction, and so he waits for Dean to go, eyes half-closed. He is listening to his imprints, shuffling through the skill set as he looked at his communicator. ]