his gaze never pulled away from the countenance of the other,
noting how those gruesome specks of BLOOD covered the
innocent freckles beneath. a bitter reminder of the duties that
Dean had to carry through. no, Nolan certainly didn’t agree with
the killing of others, but in a world like this… ravaged by living
corpses and scarce in resources – betrayal and death seemed
to go hand-in-hand.
ever a curious creature, the hound was persistent ( his demeanor
remaining expressionless and calm, though it was difficult to retain
either ) and he carefully stood, an uneasiness heavy within his chest.
truthfully, he was scared of Dean – whether the leader realized that
or not, remained unknown – but he was terrified of him.
the harshness of the other’s features; the way he calloused
himself against the woes and worries of others; convincing
himself of what was right and what was wrong.
the hound had to wonder how Dean did it, how he managed
to not completely become a mad man. as much as this fear
coiled in the pit of his stomach, Nolan kept it hidden as best
he could.
having clambered to his feet, forest green hues eventually
lowered a fraction, showing the submission he carried
toward this
fearless leader.
a stammering of an apology came tumbling out, nervous and
worried, it revealed everything he tried so hard to keep buried
when around Dean,
“m’sorry – I shouldn’t have – I know I shouldn’t have
said anythin’ — “ ( but the words spilled out anyway,
the ill-fated, all dreaded question poured out and stung
like an acid )
“why did y’do it? why did y’kill them?”
foolish. prodding. those were two ways of describing him,
and Dean had every reason to lash back. no matter the
instance, Nolan had to understand the reasoning behind
this killer’s intent. he wouldn’t kill without reason, right?
‘’m sorry.’ the word it’s self makes him recoil & retaliate internally. it
makes him really realize the MONSTER he has become enough to
have him turn away from the other with pure shame clouding against
freckled features. this is the EXACT reason why he turns away from a
wandering eye. turning so that he can IMMEDIATELY begin to throw
the wall of icy cold n a t u r e.
as moments pass on, the silent question begin to pile up within the
white noise. tension comes to RISE within the fearless leader under
DANGEROUS levels. there is nothing anyone can do when it comes
to this point except accept the fatal emotional blow he is about to
unleash. fingertips curve into his palm just to un-flex as he maintains
the anger level for NOLAN’S sake.
dean is very aware of what would be to come of the outburst looming
over the tired man’s aura. he is AWARE of what would be to come
from both sides & his potential of losing the one anchor that keeps him
SOBER even in the darkest & intoxicated of times. intoxicated by
bloodlust, intoxicated by ALCOHOL but most of all, intoxicated by the
guilt & desperation of needing resolution.
but then there is was, there was the WHY. this is his tipping point, dean
can’t hold himself back & with a slam of his palm against the wooden
cabinet, he turns with a creased brow. anger darkening every aspect of
his facade before crossing the room toward the other.
❛ because they got infected on my watch, nolan ! that’s why i did it !
i did it t’protect camp, i did it t’protect you, if i would’a BROUGHT
those men back here, HALF of camp would’a been gone by mornin’.
‘d rather me take out t’weak while i can instead of the weak coming
t’take out all i have left, got it ? ❜
the man stands there, basically toe to toe with the other, plush lips parted
as he PANTS from the sheer anger & he slowly realizes his outburst at the
other. steadily, broad shoulders slowly lower as INWARDLY he begins to
panic. he is beginning to prepare himself for nolan leaving, he prepares for
another LOSS. he is already replacing the void with alcohol as he gives the
other one last glance before turning to go toward his whiskey cabinet.
❛ as i said, i had t’do it. there is nothin’ more i can say. ❜