Night 58: Mission #3 [Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and Ruby]

[kindalikedit]

Dean was convinced the universe had it out to bone any Winchesters it could.

He didn’t like getting wrangled into something and basically forced to do someone’s dirty work and being told that yeah, he better go on some half-cocked Rambo mission or the other patients would get hit with something didn’t exactly sit well with him. He didn’t care how they dressed it up. That was blackmail and hostages and he knew perfectly well that they could carry out that threat. The fact that Ruby was gonna be riding Sammy and him on this was just the bullshit cherry on a bullshit cake.

What he wouldn’t do for an excuse to exorcise her. Dean found his teeth grinding.

This was one of the times he started to regret making that crossroads deal. Not that he’d ever regret saving Sam. Totally worth it. But there was all the other mind-games with these demons and their friggen agendas and he wasn’t even sure what was up and down with the damn things anymore. So much for knowing that all he had to do was gank these things and that was it, end of story, possibly get a “thanks, you’re so awesome” screw, blow on out with the Impala and Sam. He kinda missed those days, even if they suddenly felt far away.

Dean was the first out the door without asking the others. The thing to do was insist Ruby take point, since she was, y’know, expendable (it wasn’t like she could die in the first place), but giving her a chance to scope things out before he did wasn’t an option.

He did that awkward half-trip as the environment changed on him. Star Trek totally had it wrong with the whole teleporting thing. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t even cool looking. He guessed he was lucky he didn’t break his neck tripping over a rock or something, Dean catching himself against a tree and in the next instance righting himself, bringing up the sawed-off and going for cover, all in one smooth motion as if he’d done this before for a living. So far nothing came screaming bloody murder from the jungle. Big plus there.

Dean covered their little patch of jungle while he waited for the others to pop out behind him. No door he could see, no sign these “rebels” or whatever they were really called were onto them.

Comments

[thatdemonbitch.livejournal.com]

Dean's behavior on this crap was something she was used to. In fact, she'd go so far as to say he was a little more amicable than he'd been last time she'd actually worked with the guy. Then again, he didn't have an egg timer with his name on it ready to signal the hellhounds these days. Lucky him. Not so lucky her.

She didn't like being here weaponless, but it wasn't exactly a first. Although, she could definitely say that the jungle was. She headed out the door after Dean and scoped it out, an awed look hitting her eyes as she took it in. Teleportation magic. Fan-freaking-tastic. If only she had her own to help her out, they could get this over with.

At least the change in scenery made it a little easier to deal with. Being out of the stuffy institute and back out in the open … she didn't realize what a relief it was. Made more of one by the fact that she could feel the bind on her body and spirit lifting as soon as she was standing in the muddied jungle and not in the meeting room. It was enough to get her confused, but not enough for her to comment on it and share with the class.

"Well, at least we're getting a vacation out of the deal. Personally, I don't see why we don't just take the whole damn jungle with them. It's bound to catch the camp sooner or later, and saves us the trouble tracking." She stuffed the box of matches into her jacket pocket, her other hand holding the can of gasoline. Someone else could deal with the map.

She stopped short, turning to wait for Sam to join them through the mystic transport before they pushed onward.