(no subject)

[always_enduphere]

It's the most settled Dean has felt in months.

It's been a rough time, even by his standards. Since the tentative relief of living through a demonic possession, Dean's lost his brother, Castiel has lost his grace, and for a time, Dean couldn't quite hold on to any happiness long enough to keep it.

But it feels like they've broken through something together now, something that's wrecked them both in different ways, but walking through the park with Annie, Dean feels as close to whole as he's felt in a long while. His back is a mess of stripes, red and purple and just beginning to yellow at the edges, welts pulling as tight as Annie's leash everytime she tugs, and all Dean can think of through every flash of pain is Castiel, easing him through. As much as Dean hates that his return to Obsidian upsets Castiel, he has to believe it's worth it.

At his feet, Annie yips, and Dean smiles faintly and bends carefully to let her off her leash. He expects her to bound straight for the open grass, but when he straightens with a wince, he sees her running straight for a familiar face.

Dean raises a hand, nodding at Derek across the path.

Comments

[triskehale]

It's been a tense couple days.

Derek hadn't wanted to let Stiles out of his sight, whereas Stiles wanted to run directly towards the gruesome murder of that girl. Whether it was morbid curiosity or the need to play investigator, Derek wasn't sure. Knowing Stiles, it was probably a decent mixture of both.

There was a lot of shouting, but the incident has passed, and Stiles is safe. That's enough. Though, he does wish he could have gotten a shot at that Bateman dick. But he got what he deserved, in the end.

Dean's dog comes barreling towards him and he stops, shirtless and sweaty, to kneel down to greet her. "Not so afraid of me now, huh?"

He lets her lick at his fingers and looks up at Dean as he approaches, squinting against the sun. "Lose something?"

[always_enduphere]

"Always been a runner," says Dean, and Derek might smell fascinating, but Dean has a surefire way to get her back. He pulls a treat from his pocket, holding it in the wind until, true to form, Annie's ears perk and she bounds back to him.

"I'd judge her," says Dean, kneeling down to feed her, "But I used to do the same for pie."

[triskehale]

"I might do the same for a good steak." He straightens up and walks up to Dean, closing the distance between them and stopping short when he catches his scent. He smells like healing wounds, and a lot of them, with blood pooling under his skin.

He almost asks if he's okay, but then he takes another look at Dean. His stance is more relaxed, face a little more open. He's wounded, but he isn't suffering.

"Thought I beat that need out of you." He's not judgmental when he says it, because hey, everyone has their vices. He's just mildly curious of how it all works. He wants to understand, mainly because he finds it all a little intriguing, like maybe he could have found himself in Dean's shoes if things had gone a little differently.

[always_enduphere]

Dean's eyes narrow, but he looks away with a laugh, the tips of his ears flushing pink. "That's a seriously creepy skill, man," he says, but he doesn't bother denying it.

"Cas doesn't like me fighting for the hell of it. He doesn't like the club much either, but it seems easier on him."

[triskehale]

Derek just snorts at that, looking over at him with a smirk. "Give my regards to Castiel. Wakes you up better than coffee, I bet."

He nods and hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, hanging his head a bit. "Too bad. I found it mutually beneficial."

[always_enduphere]

"I think I can offer you something better," says Dean, running an idle hand over Annie's fur to get his blush under control, but she wriggles away, distracted by a bug in the grass.

In the silence that follows, Dean studies Derek - the guy looks younger today, head hanging and posture rounded, and Dean is reminded that he's got a decade on him. But kid or not, Derek's as deadly as they come, and Dean has every reason to believe that Derek wants to do something good with it. "I need a hunting partner. We made a decent team in that nest."

[triskehale]

Okay, that he wasn't expecting. He looks up at Dean and does his best to keep his emotions to himself. "Yeah, I'm not sure if that's exactly the right career path for me. A hunter killed my family, remember?" He frowns and looks down again, feeling his muscles twitch. He's just so goddamn tense. "Not sure I want to join the club."

[always_enduphere]

"A dick killed your family," says Dean, but he does curse himself a little, bringing it up that way. He's so far out of practice dealing with people's goddamn feelings, it's a wonder anyone speaks to him at all.

"I can't say I haven't had the wrong idea about the supernatural in my lifetime, but I don't hunt for sport, or for pleasure. If something's killing good, honest people, I put it down. That's all."

Dean sighs. "If you ever want in, consider it an open invitation."

[triskehale]

He looks over at that, considering. Taking out those vampires had been... exhilarating, to say the least. It had gotten his blood pumping, made him feel like he'd done some good in the world.

"What would you do if you came across a human killing innocent supernaturals?" He asks, genuinely curious.

[always_enduphere]

"These days..." Dean trails off, thinking of Lenore and Gordon, how clear cut everything had been going in, how messy going out. "The last human I found killing indiscriminately, I put in jail. When he got out, my brother killed him."

Dean swallows. He's seen far worse since that day, but he can still remember his dread at the time, realizing Sammy had taken off Gordon's head with his own hands. "I've killed humans when I had to, but I don't like it, and I don't make a point of hunting them."

[triskehale]

"So you'd turn the other cheek?" He just wants to know who he's getting into bed with here, and he doesn't bother trying to soften the bluntness of his questions. "Is an innocent human life worth more to you than an innocent supernatural one?"

He focuses on Dean's heartbeat, ready to listen for a lie.

[always_enduphere]

The question sits uneasy in Dean's stomach. "World's a different place than it was when I was young." Dean had been raised to believe nothing was more important than a human life, guided on that path with a firm and even violent hand, and he'll always carry some part of his father with him.

But he's in love with an angel, he works for a puck. He calls a werewolf a friend. "Innocent is all I care about now."

[triskehale]

Derek is ready for a lie, so he's surprised when it doesn't come. Dean's heartbeat remains steady, even as he looks him in the eye.

It makes his shoulders sag a little, stunned by the declaration enough that his bravado slips away. Maybe he wouldn't be ready to say that he trusts Dean completely, but in this moment he feels safe enough to let his guard down.

Being seen as equal means a lot to him, especially by someone who calls himself a hunter, and Derek looks up at him with a grateful expression.

"You can call me whenever you find something. Once I have the facts and I decide if I think it needs to be put down, I'll help you." It's the best he can offer for now. He won't call himself a hunter, but if something is out there killing innocents, he'll want to help.

"Might be a good thing, anyway. I've been looking for something to take my mind off of.. certain things."

[always_enduphere]

"Certain things," repeats Dean. He's not one to press most of the time, and he's sure not forthcoming when it comes to his own problems, but something in the way Derek says that, shoulders slumped and expression wounded, has Dean curious.

"Messy hunt's enough to take your mind off most things," he says, head still cocked.

[triskehale]

"Yeah." Derek looks over at him curiously, brows knitted and mouth drawn down into a slight frown. He isn't one to talk about his problems for various reasons. He's a stubborn bastard, no one would understand, or mainly because there's just no one willing to listen.

Dean might listen if Derek talked about what he feels for Stiles, or he might groan or laugh in his face. Derek doesn't have much experience in this area at all. Sure, he discovered that he liked guys years ago, back in New York, and if circumstances were different, he might have even taken a run at Dean by now, but this isn't the same. It's so much more than that.

"We have a lot in common," he finally says. "Similar... tastes."

[always_enduphere]

Dean raises a brow. "I don't have a lot of those these days," he says. His love for pie, for burgers, even the Impala, are only just making a comeback, and Derek can't mean whiskey because he can't get drunk.

"You gonna give me a clue here?" The image of Castiel waiting up for him at home rises up, unbidden, and Dean's brow lifts further. He can hardly believe he's having this conversation, but he hears it come out of his mouth all the same. "Do you mean your love life?"

[triskehale]

He wrinkles his nose at the term and huffs grumpily, not quite meeting Dean's eyes. "Complete lack of, more like."

[always_enduphere]

Dean chuckles despite himself. He hadn't had time to care - and nearly even less inclination to - about his own love life before it was suddenly just...happening to him. He'll be shit when it comes to advice, but Derek looks so fucking miserable.

"You're, uh," he says, gesturing while averting his eyes, "Hardly ugly, man. I'm pretty sure you could find somebody in a hurry."

[triskehale]

"Just interested in the one," he replies with a wry smile. Really, he thought he'd been more obvious.

His love life. Can it even be called that? It's really more like a string of massive tragedies, and Stiles should probably just run screaming in the other direction.

"I just figured, you know, you and Castiel probably didn't come easy," he says quietly, glancing over at him. "You guys kind of gave me hope, I guess. Or something like it, I don't know. Not sure what that even feels like anymore." He huffs a sigh and stares ahead, rolling his lips into his mouth for a moment before shaking his head. "But I doubt that's in the cards for me and him, anyway."

[always_enduphere]

"Me and Cas had a long road," Dean concedes, still watching their feet more than Derek himself. "He literally pulled me out of hell, and I still had to die one more time before I got my head out of my ass and, you know." Dean clears his throat. "Kissed him."

Shuffling where he stands, Dean nods roughly at Derek. "Who's him?" He doesn't keep tabs on Derek, not even the friendly, interested ones that he should, and he has no idea who Derek spends most of his time with. All he can think of is Stiles.

[triskehale]

Derek kind of thought that he'd take the gold for shittiest life, but the snippets he keeps hearing from Dean makes him think he may have to settle for silver.

"So hey," he says, avoiding the question outright. "If Castiel's an angel, he's gotta be really old, right?" He snorts a little and shakes his head. "Makes me feel a tad better about wanting a sixteen year old."

It's the first time he's ever acknowledged it out loud and he swallows hard, not meeting Dean's gaze. But he's pretty sure, of all the things Dean knows about him so far, that he won't judge Derek for this. So he just sighs and shrugs helplessly, risking a glance at him.

[always_enduphere]

"So it is Stiles," says Dean, meeting Derek's hesitant gaze. He's not surprised, given the way Derek had talked about him even on that first day. And Derek's right - Dean can't say anything about the age difference without admitting that Castiel has a few millenia on him.

"So what, you said something, and he said no?"

[triskehale]

"Yeah, because I'm definitely the direct approach type of guy." Derek snorts and pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's just - it's complicated, which sounds like such bullshit but I'm sure you get it."

He sighs and shifts his weight, both uncomfortable talking about his feelings and being glad to be able to at the same time. "He was never my biggest fan, despite saving my ass on a few occasions, and he didn't even want anything to do with me until I showed up here. Now we're pack, and that should be enough. It is enough."

He doesn't say "he doesn't like me back" because that's one of the most pathetic sounding phrases in the English language and he's not actually a thirteen year old girl, despite the stellar impression he's currently doing of one. He's quiet for a long moment, frowning down at his hands. "I keep waiting to get over it and it keeps not happening."