#aroundandroundthetable

bby

When he landed it was there. Yelling. Loud brash talking, words filled with disdain and hurt. And when he stepped out of the TARDIS, it was there. He was curious, and normally he would have stepped in, he would have gone over. Normally.

Instead he began to stroll down the street in search of something he'd yet to know of. The Doctor thought briefly he'd been alone for too long. But it was brief. He was fine. Travelling alone was okay. He was okay.

How was it any of his business if two people were fighting anyways? Let them work it out. The Doctor couldn't have gone further than seventy paces from the TARDIS, in direction opposite of that motel, when he turned. He was a Doctor, a hero. He should-- could fix this somehow, right?

WOAH WHAT WHAT WHAT ARE YOU DOING NO STAHP

Send one to see how my muse reacts.

“Deal with it?” Dean repeated his brother sounding practically flabbergasted.

His shoulders tensed and broadened, “I already said no. I’m not gonna let you try to break the damn deal, Sam.” How many times had they gotten into this argument now— too many. If they find a way to break the deal Sam will die. Dean couldn’t have that. Not now, not ever.

Days before Christmas. Weeks actually, but Dean was already jumping into the holiday spirit. Returning to the motel from his supply run, be practically busted down the door with a huge grin, eggnog and beer in hand, "Ho, ho, ho, Bitch."