#ofmultifandoms

Blue eyes looked up to meet the other and then quickly glanced away. “I don’t see what the point of me stepping down from law and— protecting this family does. You all have made shittier mistakes than I have, why’s mine any different. Why am I relegated back to the bunkhouse for mine?”

"Thank you."

At the first cracks of sunlight Jamie was still trying to stave off the remnants of sleep while pulling on the mostly damp t-shirt when he heard the unmistakable click of a gun chamber. Pantless, weaponless, and shivering in the sunrise all felt humiliating; he tried not to move too quickly though. “I’m not a walker!” he spoke quickly; eyeing the jeans and sweatshirt that dangled on the branches beside him then slowly he shifted his gaze to the man across from him. “I didn’t know this place was taken already.. I can leave- right now, I won’t.. cause any trouble; my clothes were wet and I was just letting them dry.” he tried to keep his shaky voice level and confident but it was hard not knowing if he was about to be shot dead on the spot or simply shot and left for dead instead. “Please don’t kill me…” he offered the plea through half closed eyes though he didn’t have to shut them; his dark hair hung over his face and did a good enough job of hiding from sight already.

Narrowing his eyes into thin blue slits, Castiel watched the dark-haired man from afar before finally giving in. With a sigh he stands and approaches slowly. He's seen the way the man is capable of controlling other, a simple glow of red eyes and they just cave right in- or that's what he assumes anyway. "Lucifer?" he asks when he's close enough, feeling suddenly much smaller than he's ever felt. He's not sure if it's a trick or just intimidation in the presence of the man. "Since when are you a... detective?" he asks, scrunching his face in confusion, swiftly pulling out his FBI badge, but not willing to risk embarrassment he doesn't open it, palming it quietly in his hands instead.

The road he was on was barren, scattered cars and trucks filled the worn pavement. Trees lined it- the sound of a creek or river hung in the distant foreground. But he walked with a glossy eyed stare, worn out and beat down. His hair covered his eyes and his blood covered most of the bottom half of his face and dingy old tshirt and the scuffs and holes in his jeans painted him to appear like nothing more than another walker early on in his infection. Zoning out, Jamie hardly noticed the men nearby- not the one with the baseball bat that’s for sure, but peripherally he did and his sharp tongue got the best of his logical thought in that moment and the threat spilled out without warning. “Fuck off, I don’t have anything you want so get out of my way and let me be on my fucking way before you end up like the last asshole who tried to take what wasn’t theirs.”

@ofmulti-fandoms

Dean sat at the table in hardened silence, but exhaustion had etched itself on his features with ease. His lips turn down and the skin beneath his eyes is a light shade of pink. Dragging his hands down his face one more he takes a slow swig of the water and slams the cup down on the tabletop, turning himself towards the heavy, securely sealed door and stares the woman down. "Look, I'm telling you, I don't know how I ended up in your database of whatever, but I'm not your guy- not this time anyway." he huffs slightly and clasps his hands together. "Why don't you ask the douchebag with the red eyes out there about my partner, I'm sure he'd be able to enlighten you to the type of work we do, but murder isn't gonna be in that draw-up."

"Is that so?" Nat smirked, leaning in as her interest was now piqued. "Care to elaborate on those bad ideas in that head of yours? 'Cause I'm all ears." She was very eager to hear what Negan had to say... because she had some ideas of her own.