#ofmurdering

     “Dean no.”

( sms → d. winchester )  what do you think?  ( sms → d. winchester )  [image attachment] ( sms → d. winchester )  porch isn’t all the way done on the side. but its livable. 

          ‘  THAT’S THE WORST IDEA I’VE       heard all year –––– and I’ve been talkin’ to   sam,   too.  ’    // @ofmurdering           (  s.c.  ) 

“You seem to know what you’re talking about. How long have you been at this?”

     ‘ DEAN, I KNOW YOU CAN DO THIS. ’ haggard brow lifts, eyes cast toward the drivers’ side ( the whole car is so strange from this angle ). john just took a CLAW to the gut, last week, and nearly couldn’t drive himself to the hospital. so, sure, that’s why they’re doing this now ––––––– but that doesn’t make it any less true. the kid’s sharp. ‘ put her in reverse. keep your foot on the brake. just back out slowly. you don’t start turnin’ until you’re at the end of the driveway. ’ // @ofmurdering

                 it’s well into the morning by the time it even happens.  dean’s head a slight bob to either side.  desperate to try and stay awake.  desperate to make up for the loss of time between before and now; how every road trip is longer, makes them spend more time apart.  and sometimes it feels like dean may never come back.  but he does.  in the middle of the night on a wednesday where he’s driven for nine hours straight.  because some things you can’t lose; and benny guesses for right now .... it’s him. and he won’t complain, won’t argue, milk every second he can get ‘fore dean’s slipping into that impala and the roar of her engine fading is the only part of goodbye he can take.  so when he feels that weight on his shoulder, the light grasp of a hand to the fabric of his flannel, benny does what he always does.  grab the throw, tosses it over them ( but mainly dean ) and places a soft unwarranted kiss to the top of his forehead.  because for now, in the moment, dean winchester is his ... until that phone rings with another call somewhere down the line.  

duh of course???