(no subject)

[always_enduphere]

It helps to know the place is there.

Dean's been standing outside of it for the better part of an hour. Not close, and not where anyone who might recognize him might see him. Just near enough to see the small, nearly invisible sign, hanging there for only willing eyes to notice.

He won't go in. But it helps to know that if he had to, if he really needed to, he could.

Shuffling deeper into his jacket despite the warm night air, Dean looks down at his boots, tongues at the blankness between his ears, the cotton stuffing up his chest. He can stay here, still and quiet, and not think.

It only lasts a moment more before he hears feet beating hard against the pavement, turning the corner and moving fast.

Comments

[triskehale]

"Sounds like it." He shrugs a little and wiggles his fingers in front of his face. "WAnt me to take some of the pain, or do you want to keep it all?"

Derek would understand either way. "You up for a drink? Won't do shit for me but I don't mind the taste."

[always_enduphere]

"Hardly does shit for me either these days," grunts Dean, but it's another moment before he takes Derek's meaning. There's no trace at all of the punches Dean had thrown on his face, not the faintest bruise or even swelling.

"Wait, really?" Dean asks. "You heal so fast...not even whiskey?"

[triskehale]

"Nope." Derek shrugs helplessly. "Tried chugging a bottle of everclear once, back in New York. I was drunk for about a minute."