[Terry resents the notion that he needs a bodyguard. Like, really fucking resents it. And yeah maybe it's not Dean's fault, but Terry's still, well. Not giving him shit, but certainly giving him an attitude about it. He's got his training under his belt, and he can reach into anyone's head and pull out their deepest, darkest fears. What's he got to worry about from anyone else?]
[(A lot. He knows that. Especially when he traces that barely visible scar on his torso, remembers the way his sweat stank of formaldehyde for days, the way--)]
[Truthfully he thinks this glorified escort is to make sure he doesn't try to run more than it is to keep him safe. Why else would they employ a-- what did Melati call him? A demon hunter? Why else hire one if not to keep him in line while they make sure he gets to that Initiative base across the country.]
[So maybe that's more accurately why he's mad at everything to do with Dean.]
[But it's still not Dean's fault, so that is why Terry is extending something of an olive branch in the form of a case of beer that he deposits on what passes for a table in this motel room before wordlessly going back to toss himself back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. Is it any good? He has no idea, he doesn't drink. But he's trying.]
[ Dean isn't anymore wild about this than Terry is. Dean's not a damn babysitter, and this isn't his normal MO. Guarding demons? Yeah, no. Dean is a demon killer thanks, and he's got better things to do with his time than ferry this kid across the country.
Still, he's here and he's doing it, because the money's good and they need it.
The room is small and clean enough; they've been here a day or two so far while Dean surveys their route and plots the next course of action, because shaking demons off his tail is what he does now, he guesses.
[Yup that's the whole answer that he's planning to give. Maybe a little anxious that Dean hates it or whatever, but he masks it pretty well by looking for his headphones.]
[ Just...tossing that out there. You did good. He likes it. ]
Try not to run off again? [ It's a damn headache for Dean when you do that. Sends him into panic mode. Like, he hates demons, but he's hired to keep this particular one alive and when it goes missing it's...annoying. ]
[ Demons aren't usually like this. They're assholes, they're killing people, pulling slimey deals, possessing people, generally being pieces of garbage that Dean would scrape off his shoe on a good day, and fling in the trash.
This kid, though. It's different - and while at first Dean was a hell of a douche to him, he's noticed that the kids different. He's not like the normal crapbags Dean usually has to deal with. ]
[He kinda wants to protest, but realistically Terry knows that his attitude has got to be pretty low on the list of problems that Dean has to deal with. But Terry just feels like an asshole and he doesn't like it.]
[Oh. He's being nice. Terry freezes, staring at Dean like a deer in headlights at the unexpected gesture. It's the tiniest thing, basically just politeness, but for some reason it's enough of a shock that it takes Terry a moment to actually reply.]
[A delicate balance of too much repression and not enough therapy mostly.]
[He pauses again, already primed to explain himself because he's had to so many times by now, and kinda has to reboot before he shakes his head again.]
I'm good, don't worry about me.
[literally expend no effort on him it's fine, he has water.]
I mean, there's a coke machine right outside the door. Pretty sure I can swing fifty cents.
[ Or a dollar, whatever a damned can of coke costs out of a machine these days. Regardless, he's already getting up to do it, so just sit there and take the niceness because Dean doesn't know how else to handle this kid. ]
[He takes two of them at random — the coke and whatever grape nonsense that is — and sets the grape aside, holding the coke in his hands with a confused frown.]
You don't have to be nice to me just because I bought you some beer, you know.
[ Look, he's trying. This is Dean trying - he's action, not words, because words are hard and he doesn't know what to do when them so drink your damn menagerie of drinks. ]
Do you have a favorite so I don't have to buy stock in Walmart brand grape soda?
[anyway that does make him crack just the slightest of smiles, a barely-there twitch at the corner of his mouth and an amused puff of breath. congratulations, Dean. You've witnessed a Rare Event.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hey jerk guard this body
[(A lot. He knows that. Especially when he traces that barely visible scar on his torso, remembers the way his sweat stank of formaldehyde for days, the way--)]
[Truthfully he thinks this glorified escort is to make sure he doesn't try to run more than it is to keep him safe. Why else would they employ a-- what did Melati call him? A demon hunter? Why else hire one if not to keep him in line while they make sure he gets to that Initiative base across the country.]
[So maybe that's more accurately why he's mad at everything to do with Dean.]
[But it's still not Dean's fault, so that is why Terry is extending something of an olive branch in the form of a case of beer that he deposits on what passes for a table in this motel room before wordlessly going back to toss himself back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. Is it any good? He has no idea, he doesn't drink. But he's trying.]
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Still, he's here and he's doing it, because the money's good and they need it.
The room is small and clean enough; they've been here a day or two so far while Dean surveys their route and plots the next course of action, because shaking demons off his tail is what he does now, he guesses.
Beer, though. That's appreciated. ]
Where'd you get this?
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[Duh.]
[Yup that's the whole answer that he's planning to give. Maybe a little anxious that Dean hates it or whatever, but he masks it pretty well by looking for his headphones.]
... Why?
[Dammit no he doesn't care he's aloof and cool.]
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Because I'm supposed to go places like that with you.
[ Like he's not overly pissed, but man if something had happened, it's Dean's ass on the line, here.
But also this is his favorite beer. So he's opening one even as he's chiding. ]
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It would be kind of a shitty gift if you came with me to get it though.
[So there.]
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He can't argue that. ]
What made you pick this kind, anyway?
[ Just, just curious. ]
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[He's watching Dean a little warily, like he's expecting this to blow up in his face somehow.]
Maybe I saw you drink it some other time or something.
[It's no big deal geez!]
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It's my favorite.
[ Just...tossing that out there. You did good. He likes it. ]
Try not to run off again? [ It's a damn headache for Dean when you do that. Sends him into panic mode. Like, he hates demons, but he's hired to keep this particular one alive and when it goes missing it's...annoying. ]
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[He hugs his knees to his chest, frowning at his phone where it is on the bed instead of looking at Dean.]
I just wanted to apologize for giving you such a hard time. I know it's not like this is exactly your idea of fun either.
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This kid, though. It's different - and while at first Dean was a hell of a douche to him, he's noticed that the kids different. He's not like the normal crapbags Dean usually has to deal with. ]
Yeah, uh. It's fine. Not a big deal.
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Okay. Good. [...] I'm glad you like the beer.
[Now they never have to talk again right.]
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dammit. ]
I do.
[ Dean ponders the six pack, peering at the label so he doesn't have to look anywhere else. ]
You want one?
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[He clears his throat and shakes his head.]
No. I, uh. I don't drink.
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Ahem. ]
Okay. Uh -- how about a soda?
[ That's...something, right? HOW DO YOU NOT DRINK Dean wants to holler but that's rude and it isn't his business so. Have a coke. ]
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[He pauses again, already primed to explain himself because he's had to so many times by now, and kinda has to reboot before he shakes his head again.]
I'm good, don't worry about me.
[literally expend no effort on him it's fine, he has water.]
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I mean, there's a coke machine right outside the door. Pretty sure I can swing fifty cents.
[ Or a dollar, whatever a damned can of coke costs out of a machine these days. Regardless, he's already getting up to do it, so just sit there and take the niceness because Dean doesn't know how else to handle this kid. ]
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[Terry's just gonna... Sit here..........]
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An armfull of stuff because he doesn't actually know what Terry likes. ]
Okay so I got Coke, Sprite, Orange, and a grape...thing.
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[He takes two of them at random — the coke and whatever grape nonsense that is — and sets the grape aside, holding the coke in his hands with a confused frown.]
You don't have to be nice to me just because I bought you some beer, you know.
[totally light and chill. it's no big deal.]
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[ Look, he's trying. This is Dean trying - he's action, not words, because words are hard and he doesn't know what to do when them so drink your damn menagerie of drinks. ]
Do you have a favorite so I don't have to buy stock in Walmart brand grape soda?
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[anyway that does make him crack just the slightest of smiles, a barely-there twitch at the corner of his mouth and an amused puff of breath. congratulations, Dean. You've witnessed a Rare Event.]
Coke's fine. [ u m . ] Thanks.
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Good. [ He's used to feeding and watering his little brother. ]
You hungry? Pretty sure we could rustle up a pizza.
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[see, he's easy]
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Toppings? Do you care?
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cool, never got this
rude of your inbox frankly
idk why it does these things
dw standing in the way of weird ships
dicks
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