MULTIMUSE

Sounds good. 

Just like that. Just like that and Chris coudl feel the sudden palpitation of his fucking heart over a situation that has a less likely threshold of happening than the world actually being safe. Or maybe it didn’t— it wasn’t like Chris operated on a typical schedule, and he knew that Leon likely didn’t either, as most of what they did as far as Chris knew was a per-basis situation. Called in every other day, or week, gone for days and weeks— he could only hope that there was a window in the future for them. There had to be— it gave him something to push through his next OP for. 

Not that he didn’t have things beyond that that kept his fortitude strong regarding staying alive— Chris refused to be taken down by the shit they took care of. Even if he did think that that would be how it ended for himself in some sick twist of fate. 

Irony, or whatever. 

“I’ll let you know when I get back, then.” The words fell from his tongue in a way that felt as equally unsure as he’d felt about the prospect; it wasn’t uneasy, but perhaps a slither of surprise. He hadn’t expected this to go outside of what was happening now— Hell, sitting at a diner wasn’t something they’d done before. Not outside of the context of work, anyway. 

Though as they talk about Claire, he’d been able to feel the slight drift of tension from his shoulders ease itself into something that was ultimately more familiar, comforting, in a way. It was a mutual connection point between them– though he’d never really thought of it that way, despite her being the reason they knew each other in the first place.

Maybe he did have some things to thank her for, in the long run.

He’d hummed in response, a small smile playing at his lips as a break in the crease of his features, one that only fronted itself whenever he talked about her. “Without a doubt. She’s been working on those things for as long as I can remember. Always liked to just… fix things. Didn’t matter what it was, or is.” She was just like that. Maybe it’d stemmed itself from their own childhood; she was young, though. Too young to maybe remember the worst parts of it, but she was always there for him whenever it did get bad. More so as she got older, but as they aged, so did their parents, and the fighting began to dwindle itself the more they were out of the house. Chris normally took them different places, just to ease the tension until it all collapsed way too fast before his eyes. 

I guess you’re not like most people. 

He could’ve laughed– in what context? He was a far cry from most people, though when it came to basic decency and appreciation? Chris could shower that in easy ways, and paying for Leon’s food was currently one of the easiest ones at his disposal. The price didn’t matter to him– they were both having a decent time, not working, and fucking sitting for once. Did Chris entirely think he deserved that time? No, but that was a different topic for another day. 

“M’not expecting anything. Next time we do this, you can foot the bill.” 

He was not expecting anything from it, even if he’d been more flustered about the idea of it being a date or not. Regardless of what it was labeled as, Chris was going to offer. Again, it was an easy way for him to provide, and he’d been rather deliberate with his wording regarding it. Next time, which didn’t seem like that large of a jump to him considering they’d been planning to cook for each other at some point in the near future. 

He blamed it on his desire to see Leon in something other than a gun holster and knee pads. He blamed it on the want to see what a life looked like outside of their world– outside of his own.

The saving grace of the flush of heat over his cheeks – the waitress – cornered him with a meal that was on par with the one he’d been sitting next to. It served as an eerily, perfectly time cut into whatever fucking moment was happening between them, and saved him from potentially letting words fall from his mouth that wouldn’t align with his own tongue. Truthfully, he didn’t even know what he was going to say, and there was nothing he could do to show his appreciation toward the woman other than leaving her a relatively nice tip once they were done. 

Chris didn’t get nervous. Leon was the first person to make him stumble over any decision, or even a sentence. 

He’d moved to grab the utensils off to the side, eyeing his steak with a hunger that he could feel rumble within his stomach– but Leon was pressing the issue that he was hoping would just be swept away. It wasn’t an issue, per se. Well. He was trying to not let it become an issue, but his mind kept slipping back those few seconds to remember how careful yet quick Leon had been with removing his tie, and it wasn’t a far shot off from where his thoughts carried to from that alone. 

He could feel his ears heating up.

Though, Chris shook his head. “No– no. You didn’t make me uncomfortable, just didn’t expect it. Thanks though, because the moment I get out of this, I’m shoving it far back in my closet and not touching it for another year or so. Whenever the next goddamn anniversary party is.” Chris grabbed the knife and brought it together with the fork to cut at a few pieces of his steak. “One less piece I gotta worry about, you made the job that much easier for once.” Despite finding his verbal footing taking a moment, the trail of his quip induced a smile over his features.  

It’s strange for Leon to actually have something to look forward to when he’s not working. Someone to try to come back to in one piece so that they can have their little cook off or whatever the hell it is. Leon can’t remember the last time he’s ever actually had something to look forward to coming back home to. 

He can’t even remember the last time he referred to his home as home. Just a place to lay his head between missions and nothing more than that. Hell, he doesn’t even know where exactly Chris even lives. Do any of them really have a home if they’re rarely ever there? 

Those are the kinds of questions Leon doesn’t want to linger on for too long, afraid that if he does it will ruin this moment between them. This moment that feels so fragile and precious to Leon. 

This moment he might have fucked up with the impulsive action he’s inwardly kicking himself for. He probably made this so much more awkward than it needed to be because he couldn’t keep his goddamn hands to himself. 

But then Chris is telling him that he didn’t make him uncomfortable, and it makes Leon release a sigh of relief. That is the last thing he wanted, but the tie had pained even him, and Chris looked so deeply uncomfortable. 

“Okay....good.” Leon says with a slight nod of his head. He’s glad Chris didn’t get uncomfortable, but he would have understood if he was. “It looked like it was too tight. Or annoying.” Or both. Either way, Chris looks a little more at ease without the tie hanging around his neck. He looks much better like this, more in his element, even if he’s still wearing the stupid suit. At least he doesn’t look like the tie is going to choke the life out of him. 

Leon turns his gaze away from Chris and down to the food settled in front of him. Food that makes his stomach growl loudly and reminds him that he hasn’t eaten much today, if at all.  

Leon picks up the burger to take a bite out of it, chewing and swallowing it with ease. It’s juicy, perfectly cooked, and fucking delicious. These people seem to know what they’re doing. He shoves a fry into his mouth next and then take a sip of the coffee that has thankfully cooled off by now. 

“Shut up, of course I have. I grew up with older brothers.” Ophelia replied quickly, getting to work on cleaning the wound. “It just looks even worse now that I can see it all.” The fact that he was rather muscular underneath almost made up for it, as deft fingers went to work on the first aid rather than tracing his abs.

The fact that this stranger wasn’t mocking her ghost theories said something. Maybe he really did know what was going on here. He didn’t seem like a crazy conspiracy theorist or hippie trying to commune with the dead, so she was willing to hear him out.

A ghost could have taken her. She had that thought one night, but it was around 2am and she was sure it was just the delirium kicking in. But if a ghost was in there, and it made these type of injuries on Dean? Then maybe she wasn’t so far off as she thought.

She listens to him as he explains how this works while she bandages up his cuts, glancing up at him every so often to check that he’s sincere with his words. There isn’t a trace of a tease in his words or on his face now.

Her mouth opens to argue when he starts on about letting him handle it, but then he’s continuing his thought and her mouth swiftly closes once more. If. There was her in.

Ophelia took a slight step back to look at him properly, letting his words sink in. “You squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it, yeah? I’ve only ever shot a toy gun, but it can’t be that different, can it?” Yes, because this one would be full of salt rounds, not foam darts. This was real, not some play pretend activity.

Taking a breath, she inspected his chest again. She had wiped away all the blood and put clean bandages on his wound. It was a start, better than how he looked a few minutes ago. If they were going to go back in there, he might as well be patched up first before it got any worse.

“I can listen to you. Follow your lead.” Even if she was terrified to face whatever was lingering in that house, she had to follow him. She had to find out what happened to Emily. If that meant shooting salt at a ghost, then she’d do it. “Do you have an actual lead for this? That house was full of junk, and we’re looking for something specific to burn. Not exactly wanting to play needle in a haystack in an actual haunted house.”

Dean arches an eyebrow at her, as if he doesn’t fully believe her. He’s sure she does have brothers but it seemed like she’d been checking him out through all the blood and dirt smeared on his chest. “Uh huh.” Dean says in disbelief, but ultimately decides to let it go, he has more important things to do than tease her. Like going back in there and taking care of that damn ghost. 

He barely flinches as she tends to the wounds. They hurt, of course, but he’s so used to pain by now that it doesn’t bother him all that much. The most she gets is a hiss, the claw marks sting more anything, but he forces himself still instead of giving in to the instinctive urge to jerk away. 

I’ve only ever shot a toy gun, but it can’t be that different, can it? 

Dean nearly laughs, but swallows the sound back so that he doesn’t agitate his wounds even further than they already are. Really? She thinks toy guns are anything like real guns? He forgets, sometimes, how sheltered people can be. Or rather, how normal they are. 

No normal person knows how to handle a million different weapons. No one normal has a trunk customized to fit weapons, or carries around salt rounds, or has an anti-possession tattoo on their chest. 

“No. It’s got some recoil. Hold it or treat it like a toy gun and you’re going to hurt yourself, especially a shotgun.” Which is what they’ll be using, more effective for delivering salt rounds to ghosts. He’s got a couple in the trunk of his car. 

After she’s done mending his wounds, Dean grabs his shirt to slowly and carefully pull it down over his head, shoving his arms through before he’s standing completely to head for his car parked on the street. He doesn’t tell her to follow him, he assumes she will. 

“We have to find something that belongs to him, that’s tying him there. My brother is doing some research but waiting out here isn’t exactly a good idea if your friend is in there, if she has any chance of making it out alive.” So, they either find the object themselves when the go in there, or they fight off the ghost while he waits for Sam to call him. 

Dean walks around to the back of the Impala, unlocking the trunk with his key and lifting it up. Inside, there are various weapons. Guns of all kinds, knives, machetes, dead man’s blood, all sorts of things. What he’s looking for is in the center, two shotguns. He makes sure one of them is loaded with salt rounds and hands it over to her before grabbing his own, making sure that one is loaded too.