Jason Dunham

Which is what?

"Wait a minute, you’re that guy on the street? I think I might have you confused with someone else. I’m Sam. Sam Tanner."

"Ah, yes, the pain in my ass. Puppy eyes," he recalled, or pretended to. Jason's memory was rather flawless. "Tanner?" he repeated, wondering who on Earth still introduced themselves using their full name. "Jason. Just Jason."  

"Jason, don’t be like that." the hunting part isn’t anyones business but mine, she thought. “I’m sorry! You know that I’m sorry! For crying out loud, don’t do this to me, please! I know I fucked up but for crying out loud don’t make me pay for it this way.” she stopped shaking her head. Was there really anything to lose in being honest? “I get that you’re upset. I know, I don’t blame you. And I know you aren’t going to sweep it under the rug, but don’t make me lose you completely. Please.” she stopped, still looking at him, but this time she wasn’t glaring. There was something else glinting in her eye.

"I'll be however the fuck I please," he hissed back at her, clearly unwilling to present himself as flexible. No, he was not flexible. He was stubborn and fixed; fixed on the morals imposed on him throughout his life, lead by what he believed to be wrong and right. But he was spoiled; came with the territory of being the youngest. And, as a result, he did not easily forgive. Because he was used to getting things his way, he had to make a fuss when they went wrong. Yet Jo seemed to have a will of iron, continued to speak despite his bitter mood, eventually getting though to him.

So how long are you staying here?

Jo wanted to take a few steps back, and escape Jason’s rant, but she stood her ground instead. They stood close enough that she could almost feel his breath, with her glaring up and him glaring down. Part of her wanted to slap him, he deserved it; but she knew it would be useless.

Despite the tension, despite the anger flickering past her eyes, Jason was stubborn enough to not shift his gaze elsewhere. He had always been wired in this fashion; too stubborn for his own good; too late to change that now, wasn't it?

"I know exactly what you’re going through. It wasn’t very hard to identify after walking by you. I know you’d want nothing more then to actually be dead. There’s probably some giant hole eating away in you right now. You want to feel numb. I’m not being cheesy when I saw it’s not worth whatever you’re thinking about doing.” 

Anger; it flooded his senses almost as instantly as the angst had overwhelmed him just moments before. Being told by someone he had never bothered sparing two words two how it was he felt was not comforting; just another way of triggering his short temper. But the more Sam spoke, the more Jason could identify with him. Yes, it was like his heart had been ripped out and replaced with an all consuming black hole. "I don't like you," he clarified, glaring slightly before the man's attention drifted elsewhere. Good.

She knew deep down that he would’ve reacted like this, but still Jo was hurt. She pulled her hand back like she’d been stung and straightened up immediately. It was hard for her not to put her own guard up, but she knew it wouldn’t help.

He could feel her defenses creeping up. Good. This was what he did best, fuck good things up though he found comfort in knowing this time he had not been the first to make a mistake. Not that that mended anything; if anything he was more at an impasse. 

If you end up in a sequestered European all men’s prison, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Sam sighed at the man’s sarcasm, growing so used to Dean’s own over the years. “I know it’s bad now, but trust me death isn’t something you want.  No matter how bad it gets.” He thought back to dying, so much pain had came from it. He thought some good would have come out of it. Nothing could have prepared Sam for the news he got as he returned. 

Of course I am, being  that I’ve become so used to it, but sometimes it’ll get you nowhere. 

Well, a man can dream. 

Jo had been out searching for people in need of help for the past hour, and already found a few strays wandering the streets. She’d developed a system of sorts, go through the checks, then see if they were in shock or not and send them inside to hide and stay safe. So far, it had worked.

If this same moment had played not so long ago, then perhaps Jason would have been far more open to her touch; he might have had embraced it even. Too much had happened since the last time they and a decent talk. Ever since he realized just how much Jo knew, how much she had refused to share with him when he had been completely honest... something in him had gone into shutdown and, ever since, it was hard for him to allow himself that same vulnerability. 

Okay, what do you want?

Stefan had been aimlessly walking around town for a few hours now, enjoying the darkness and the special atmosphere that came with it more than he should. There had been a few people outside, hurrying back to their homes or trying to find an open shop or restaurant where they could stay for a while, but other than that the streets were desolate. 

Lacking the ability to care whether or not his musings - or wallowing in self pity - were interrupted or not, Jason glanced up, eyebrows lifting when he found himself looking at an unfamiliar face. "Is it forbidden for one to sit and enjoy the chaos around him?" he spat the word out, huffing before shoving his hands back into his pockets, allowing the quiet to settle between them. In the distance he could hear someone screaming. Or something howling. Whatever it was, it would inflict fear upon most people. Jason simply couldn't being himself to give a damn.

Sam must’ve killed around 50 vampires and demons already. A slight exaggeration, but they were everywhere. Blood stained his clothes a dark red hue, the smell was putrid and revolting. His stake was also covered in the substance.

Sympathy was not something Jason was accustomed to. He had never expected it; one could argue he went to extreme length to not be pitied but rather disliked. He was arrogant, trouble; he broke girls' hearts with close to no care only to then move on, crawl into another's bed and do the same. Why girls continued to bother was beyond him. They knew of him, his reputation... it was the same reputation that caused women to be hostile towards him in general. Bonnie Bennett was living proof of that. But then he had always quite despised her.