Winchester. Yes, like the rifle.

“It’s an oldie. But I love it,” She said softly. “Anyway. You can take a look at her after breakfast.” She smiled and ate her meal. “It’s just how I was raised. Thanks for turning out to not be a murderer,” She teased a bit, winking at him. “You know… there’s more to be cooked. You don’t have to eat like it might be your last meal.”

     “Yeah?” he asked, curious. He had rebuilt a ‘67 Chevy Impala more than once. His pride and beauty. He’d had to leave her behind when he left. He hoped Bobby had the good sense to come pick her up and hide her in his garage... before someone else found her. 

“I’m Alexandra,” She offered before furrowing her brows. “The worst plunge?” Alex tilted her head slightly and bit her lip. “And before you ask why I care… it’s a lot about self preservation. First class passenger comes down here, something happens to him… everyone thinks one of us did something.”

     “I’m engaged, Alexandra.” Dean said wryly, his voice tinged with the effects of the alcohol. “To a really horrible woman.” Never the type to pour out his feelings, especially to a total stranger, Dean wrenched himself out of his thoughts. 

Natalia smiled a bit and then shook her head. “I’m fine… although… maybe you can take a look at a car I’ve got outside?” She offered. “It hasn’t been running right for a while. If you know anything about cars, I’d greatly appreciate it.” She grabbed a glass and some orange juice before sitting down at the table and starting to eat her breakfast. “Sorry it’s not much.”

     “Yeah,” Dean nodded. “I can do that. What kind of car do you have?” He hoped it was something he’d be able to fix before taking off. He would stay as long as he needed to in order to fix it- within reason. He knew hanging around too long could get Natalia killed, and Dean would never forgive himself if that happened. 

Seeing the man there, caused her to panic. What was he doing on this deck? Oh goodness. What was she going to do? She might be able to sneak away without anyone noticing. But there was something off about this particular individual.

Swallowing thickly, she got up from her bench and slowly moved off toward him. “You look a bit too nice to be on this deck of the ship,” She mentioned softly, her black hair blowing in the wind. Tucking a bit behind her ear, she smiled at him shyly. “Not planning anything drastic like… I don’t know… jumping, are you? I can tell you right now… you wouldn’t last. The water’s near freezing, and from a height like this… broken bones. Not good.”

     Chuckling darkly, Dean tossed his head back. Jumping. As if his family wouldn’t raise him from the dead to make sure he went through with his marriage. “No,” he assured the strangely caring woman. “Jumping’s not in the cards for me. I’ve already taken the worst plunge of my life.” He stared out over the rail at the waves as they ebbed in the darkness. 

getting slightly too drunk in the middle of the afternoon and slow dancing to dumb cheesy old music and kissing in a way that’s more laughter than actual kissing, mouths clumsy and hands gripping tight and sunlight slanting over them as they move lazily together 

curling up on the sofa together, feet tucked under thighs and arms around shoulders, watch the kind of crap tv that only airs at 3am because they don’t want to go to untangle themselves to go to bed

hectic mornings when they each need to be somewhere and they’re rushing around each other, ducking into bathrooms and bedrooms and kitchen cupboards, pausing to straighten tops and press kisses to cheeks

going through old photos together and collapsing into laughter every three pictures, and zooming in on ones where they’re pulling awful faces or ones that were taken at just the wrong moment

getting ready for nights out together, standing shoulder to shoulder as they brush their teeth or get their faces ready or style their hair, knocking elbows and hips as they try and hog more space

Smiling at him, she had some already cooked with toast ready as well. “I’m glad you did,” She replied with a nod. “I’ll have some coffee ready if you want.” She put the cooked items on the table and hummed a bit, thinking about everything that she needed to do with him. She needed to make sure he got to where her organization would get him… and keep him away from that horrible place that made him.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” She asked, tilting her head slightly.

     “No, I’m good, thank you.” he said simply. “Everything looks- and smells- delicious. Can I give you a hand with anything?” he offered again, feeling awkward just standing there. He grabbed the last ready dish she hadn’t moved and brought it to the table, putting it somewhere where there was room. He took a sip from his glass of water before putting it where he chose to sit. 

Natalia had gone ahead and sent her message, then got a reply making sure she took care of the man that was sleeping in the bed upstairs. The redhead didn’t sleep, something she usually dreaded doing because she hated the feeling and memories.

She was awake and cooking bacon when he woke. When she heard him on the stairs, she smiled and looked over at him. “Morning. Did you sleep well?” She asked, hoping he had.

     “Hi,” he greeted her, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You’re up early. Can I give you a hand with anything?” He crossed over into the kitchen, heading over to her to wait for instructions. “Yeah,” he lied. “It was real cozy. Thank you.” 

Alexandra made her way back up on deck after she’d finished her meal. Dressed in a coat and a warm skirt with laced up boots, she closed her eyes, twirling her charcoal over her fingers like a baton. When she’d settled on a picture in her head, she sketched it on the paper, humming to herself.

She heard a few people around her, but paid them no mind. All of the decks were allowed on the Third Class deck, but she was only allowed on her own deck unless she was specifically invited. And she doubted that would ever happen.

Opening her eyes, she looked around to see who had joined her and if there were any scenes she could sketch out. In all honesty, she wondered if she’d ever see that first class passenger again, other than on her paper. He looked so… hollow, depraved… lonely.

     Alcohol and air. The combination was a surefire remedy to any ailment. Dean had taken a rare chance to escape his terrible fiancee, Wanda Wells-Flowerstein. He had hidden himself in back of the third class deck, a place she’d never go because she claimed it ‘offended her delicate nose.’ Dean had always rolled his eyes at that, sometimes subtly, sometimes obviously, always earning a pout from that woman. Feigning ill had gotten him out of dinner tonight, but he’d have to survive the rest of the cruise with her.

     The man sighed, heavy and solemn. He needed to break off the engagement to survive, but if he did... the family war would explode all over again. 

Castiel sank to his knees in exhaustion, as the wind buffeted him. He didn’t know how he was supposed to find the Winchesters and even if he did, were they even alive? He couldn’t bear to find their lifeless bodies, he couldn’t.

A huge bolt of lightning illuminated the sky and the space, jerking Cas out of his reverie. He looked up and saw a human like form hit the ground. It couldn’t be one of them, could it? He crawled over to it, as the rain blinded him as he called, “ Dean? Sam? Is that you?”

     Dean halted in his tracks, stopping short of heading even deeper into the void. He was still stiff after his crash to the ground. He shook off the pain, choosing not to feel it. It was hardly anything compared to what he’d been through in his life. He heard the voice that had stopped him, not sure if it was trustworthy, or just a trick of the void. 

@perditionxraisingxclarence

     Disney World after hours was about as fun as could be expected. Sneaking in had been interesting, as neither of the brothers could cough up the amount of cash it took to get into the magical kingdom. In the end, it had been a simple as a zap from Cas. Not that Sam minded, but Dean was irked. He had other ways he preferred to travel.   

     There had been some freak killings in the parks as of late. Attendance was down. The newspapers had a hayday with it. Animatronics came to life, attacking people left and right. Attractions shifted, becoming dangerous. Life threatening villains walked the streets at night. It was definitely not a regular case, but Dean was up for it.