[ You're gonna have to wait, you giant douchebag. Dean isn't getting out of this car until Castiel is taken care of. ]
No. Your buddy Uriel is here. [ The expression on Dean's face is telling; he does not like your 'brother', and is still contemplating the merits of putting a bullet in him. ]
He says there's an ambulance on the way for you. [ Dean shuffles a little, peering to lean half in the front seat before finding what he's looking for. A half drank bottle of water. ]
Drink this, it's just water this time. [ He smiles, thin and lacking mirth. ] Promise I won't force any more whiskey down your throat.
[ For now, anyway. And he doesn't really get a chance to do that anyway, because Uriel is not known to be a patient man, and it wont be long before he comes back over to see what the hell it is Dean is doing.
In the interim, he chooses to watch the scene play out, watch Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man, dote over his captor like he's Patty Hearst. It's got him curious, because Dean doesn't seem like he's interested in killing Castiel. Not at the moment, anyway - it seems like something he could have easily done by now, what with the way he'd found them hovered in the backseat, smeared in blood.
Dean can't hear anything but the thundering of his own blood in his ears; his arm and thigh ache at this point and his consciousness swims. Sirens are on the horizon, though - and eventually, they break through the thick cloud that has settled in Dean's brain like a heavy fog before rain. ]
Think that's my cue. [ If he stays here any longer, the paramedics will be required to treat him, too, and probably call the cops which isn't something anyone wants.
Especially not Uriel, since he's already on his way back, and it looks like he has a gun tucked in his jacket. ]
You're gonna be okay, man. [ Just try to remember I helped you, he thinks to himself as he backs out of the car, just in time for the butt of Uriel's gun to come down on the back of his head, sending him into darkness once more. ]
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No. Your buddy Uriel is here. [ The expression on Dean's face is telling; he does not like your 'brother', and is still contemplating the merits of putting a bullet in him. ]
He says there's an ambulance on the way for you. [ Dean shuffles a little, peering to lean half in the front seat before finding what he's looking for. A half drank bottle of water. ]
Drink this, it's just water this time. [ He smiles, thin and lacking mirth. ] Promise I won't force any more whiskey down your throat.
[ For now, anyway. And he doesn't really get a chance to do that anyway, because Uriel is not known to be a patient man, and it wont be long before he comes back over to see what the hell it is Dean is doing.
In the interim, he chooses to watch the scene play out, watch Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man, dote over his captor like he's Patty Hearst. It's got him curious, because Dean doesn't seem like he's interested in killing Castiel. Not at the moment, anyway - it seems like something he could have easily done by now, what with the way he'd found them hovered in the backseat, smeared in blood.
Dean can't hear anything but the thundering of his own blood in his ears; his arm and thigh ache at this point and his consciousness swims. Sirens are on the horizon, though - and eventually, they break through the thick cloud that has settled in Dean's brain like a heavy fog before rain. ]
Think that's my cue. [ If he stays here any longer, the paramedics will be required to treat him, too, and probably call the cops which isn't something anyone wants.
Especially not Uriel, since he's already on his way back, and it looks like he has a gun tucked in his jacket. ]
You're gonna be okay, man. [ Just try to remember I helped you, he thinks to himself as he backs out of the car, just in time for the butt of Uriel's gun to come down on the back of his head, sending him into darkness once more. ]