#iustuscadens

[bonnietohisclyde]

Breakfast Club

Pain.  Unadulterated pure pain that spread from his eyes to his toes.  And yet he didn’t really feel it.  It was a memory of pain, absently reminding him that once, once he’d felt this.  But he was free- no, he was free and running. A door.  If he could just get through the door.

No, there were hooks. They dug into his shoulders, abdomen, face, pulling in every direction, Adam whimpering in the corner.

No, he was free.  No- there were restraints, no- it was all logical and yet not.  Every pull, every scream he attempted, every movement only damned him more- but the door was within reach, and it was only when he put his hand on the knob that he realized it wouldn’t open.  There was no-

Laughter.  There was laughter, and he was in front of him, promising him that everything would be alright, would hurt less if-

His eyes flew open, breathing heavy as he sat up in his bed, soaked in his own sweat.  He was waiting.  Lucifer was waiting on the other side of his eyelids, and he could practically see the grin already.  The crooking of the finger to try to lure him back into sleep.  Kicking free of the blankets instead, he stumbled forward, avoiding looking at the mirror, and grabbing a clean pair of pajamas.  

One hot shower later, and he was shuffling towards the kitchen.  There hadn’t been a sleeping pill tonight, he was still trying to adjust to living with Dean around, and Dean- actually wasn’t around.  Which meant, at least, if he was going to be up, he could be up.  Coffee and food and an all nighter, no older brother to linger over you and try to get you to sleep.  Not with those eyes waiting for him to close his eyes and let his guard down.

He didn’t even pause, consider if anyone else would be in the kitchen as he poured his coffee, and hadn’t even realized his hands were shaking until the coffee missed the cup completely, causing him to jump back.  Swearing and slamming the pot on the counter before he spilled it anywhere else, he eyed the steaming liquid on the counter, the quarter filled cup.  It was going to be a long damn night.

[devilsnotary]

@iustuscadens answered an ask:

The answer was somewhere between the lines of ‘not good’, and ‘terrible’, but Dean thought better than to say anything about that. It was the middle of the day, it was blistering hot outside, and he hadn’t woken up feeling good to begin with. He’d tried to stick it out, stubborn as he was, but the heat had gotten the best of him. Above him was the girl, he hadn’t seen her before, but here she was. He squinted and pushed himself up, waiting for the world to catch up with his vision. “….Mediocre at best, but I’ll live.”

Of all the people to run into as a teenage girl, and it was a Winchester.  She’d always hoped to be an adult female at least, to seduce, but this obviously wasn’t the time.  Too young to suit his needs.   “One second.” She grinned, and was up and walking away, coming back with a wet washcloth to lay across his head, cool and refreshing.  “Business people around here all know me, so don’t get any funny ideas, big guy.”  The girl’s look was mock scolding as she moved from her crouch, curiousity clear in her face.  “They couldn’t move you from the floor, by the way, you’re just too damn big.” 

[bonnietohisclyde]

From  iustuscadens ask:

Castiel really had no idea…how limited humans were. When he had taken Jimmy as a vessel, he had felt limited. Had longed for the days where he simply watched, where he could stretch his wings out to their complete span and not feel the pull and confining edges of the human he was inhabiting. But…humanity…was a different kind of suffocating. He felt…so little and yet so much, and he seemed to be feeling all the wrong things. The ache in his eyes from reading for so long, the frustration of not being able to remember perfectly what he had read only five minutes ago, and the annoying pangs in his stomach that his days wandering the nation to get back to the bunker had taught him was hunger. But he didn’t have the time, or the patience, to submit to these human feelings. He needed to find a way.

“…..” He didn’t notice Sam had entered the room, another annoying thing about being human. He didn’t feel Sam, like he would normally. All he had at his disposal was the look on the youngest Winchester’s face and the gesture of the sandwich being held out to him in….solidarity. He almost shivered, before taking the sandwhich half and taking a small bite.

Heavenly.

That was…one thing about humanity that Castiel appreciated. The taste of food could be so…satisfying.

“…Thank you, Sam.”

“Course.” It’s an easy reply as he works on the rest of his sandwich, leaning a little to look over what Castiel’s researching.  He can bet it’s trying to find out where his grace was, and yet Castiel as human was something that was strange to think about.  He was still trying to wrap his head around it sometimes, but he was grateful he was here.

And there wasn’t an angel in his head this time to make Dean kick him out.  He shuddered a little at the memories, trying to concentrate on getting the jelly off his fingers, sitting up a little more straight.  “You’ve got to sleep at some point, Cas.” He stated simply with a sigh.  “You have to be exhausted.  Did you figure out the coffee machine yet?”

Standing, he stretched, back cracking in objection.  There was always the question of where Dean was hiding, but he could be at the bar down the road too.  Things had been mildly awkward, trying to find out where they all fit in the place with Castiel there too.  Luckily this place was built for the men of letters, with plenty of people living here.  Meant there were rooms, it had just meant a full day of airing a room out, getting sheets for the bed, dusting things off- Castiel’s first day in the bunker while being human hadn’t been easy for the mess.  The room had a radio, but not a tv yet, let alone anything for netflix, that was something to figure out if Castiel would be stuck human for an elongated time.

For now though, he had a room next door to Sam, so at least, he figured, if he did watch enough on Sam’s tv, he could literally shuffle to his own bed- that was no longer coated in dust.

[bonnietohisclyde]

From  iustuscadens ask 

Frustration was starting to set in, along with a rather killer headache. Dean rubbed at his temples, then his eyes in a quick succession, before continuing to scroll on the computer screen. The scuffling of feet against the worn floorboard alerted Dean to his brother’s presence, but he didn’t steal his gaze from the screen until the coffee mug touched the table with a soft clink. “….Three kids in two weeks, Sam,” He grunted, voice rough from lack of sleep. He glanced at the cup like he had just noticed it, then raised his eyebrows appreciatively and downed half the contents. “No time for that right now, I still got no friggin’ clue what this thing is.” 

Sam didn’t want to say anything at first.  He knew that drive,  but he knew enough from his own past that it could kick your ass trying to drive yourself too hard.  And his brother?  Dean would kick his own ass over kids.  Some part of Sam wasn’t sure if Dean saw Sam in every kid he had to save, and it was always a possibility.  “If you don’t eat, you’ll pass out on the way to saving those kids,” He commented with a sigh.  “And I’m not an amazing chef, I know, but I can make a grilled cheese or something for you.  You’re always on me to stay fed and rested.” 

Hell, he’d all but pushed Sam down the hall to get him to go to bed, falling into ‘dad’ mode.

[bonnietohisclyde]

@iustuscadens answered an ask

“Come on, Sammy, I thought AC was your thing,”  Dean remarked blandly, trying in vain to get the stripped screws to turn. Even with the step ladder, he was on his tip toes, trying to get the panel into the ceiling open so they could crawl into the space that held the AC unit. Water dripped down from the seems where metal met wood panelling.

“Yeah well, not getting paid for it anymore, so-” All he could see was his brother falling off of that damn ladder, if he was honest, breaking his head open, and then where would he be?  No deals to make this time around, let alone for a stupid death.  Aftermath of that damn Tuesday, he supposed.  His brother did anything risky, and he could pretty much tell Dean exactly how he would die in this situation, and what it would look like.  “Shouldn’t they have someone who works here to do it?”

[isurvivedhellforthis-blog]

Past Saving// Closed RP

@iustuscadens

He couldn’t explain why he couldn’t kill her, and the questioning looks from his brother and the angel were certainly not helping. Between what they had found out from Crowley and Metatron, it was pretty clear they were in over their heads, just like normal. Dean gave a sigh, standing as his brother headed back towards his room. Dean glanced over at the angel, noting the wariness in his eyes.

He ran a hand over his face, starting to wander back towards his own room before he stopped. He turned to look at Cas, frowning slightly. “You sure you’re okay, Cas? You seem a little... Tense. Well, more than usual.” Not that he blamed him. Meeting up with Metatron like that... It couldn’t have been easy. But, even he had to admit, he wouldn’t have let him ago, not like that. Then again, the hunter was a lot less lenient than he used to be.

[ellen--jane--moving]

once the darkness has settled... @iustuscadens

Max and Ellen were making bullets, sitting at the counter in the boarded up diner they now called home. Their parents were right next to them cleaning all the guns and knives Ellen managed to hoard over the years. All this time she’d been wishing for her family back. She never wanted it to be like this, but she’d come to realize that this is the only way it ever could be. 

Darkness had fallen. She knew deep down it was the Winchester’s doing. It had been many months since then. The hardest months of her life. Her soul focus on surviving. Taking down whatever came at her. It was harder than it had ever been. Monsters were fiercer, sharper, quicker. And they were out there in masses. People were cut-throat and desperate. It was everyone for themselves. She kept her head on her shoulders though. Was heading toward the bunker because she figured there wasn’t a safer place in the world, but that all changed when she found her family. They were long since dead. All three of em. But there they were. Max was there fighting like a champ protecting their parents from some avid Jefferson Starships. Without a word or question Ellen stepped in beside him taking them down. After what she’d seen in her life, especially since the darkness, she knew anything could happen. And thankfully this was actually happening.

They settled into some abandoned beat up diner in northern Arkansas. They cleaned the place up a little bit. Boarded up the windows, cleared out most of the broken glass. Used the tables to keep all the doors closed. Turned some of the booths into beds, the bar into an armory and the kitchen into well.. the kitchen stayed the same. The kitchen was where they felt most like a family. Not out on the cleared worn linoleum where Max and Ellen taught their parents how to fight. No. That was hard on all of them. But when it came time to eat. They were all cooking and baking together it was like the world wasn’t ending outside those walls. Like they’d never left their Georgia home. 

Ellen was never the overly cautious type. That was always Max’s job. She was always trusting. So when a knock came and the winchesters were on the other side of the door she didn’t question it. She just squeezed the bejesus out of them. It was almost too late before she realized it was a trap. That they weren’t real. But max was somehow quicker than the dark imposters. And that gave Ellen the brief moment to switch gears and join in. And in the heat of the moment they acted too fast ending them before they realized how much they needed them to figure shit out. What could contain them. Kill them. Expose them. What was their kryptonite. That wasn’t going to happen for them. They were left in the dark.

They’d stay in this restaurant until their folks were good fighters or they ran out of food. Which ever came first. And thankfully she didn’t think either would come soon and they could continue this attempt at living like a normal family. The bullets would clink on the counter top as they were finished. She’d pass them to Max who’d pass them to their mom who’d load up another magazine. Silently, diligently working away.

iustuscadens

[rexinvio-archive]

;the end

It's scouting, that's all. He's weighing his options-- not that he has many to start with, but this is at least one. He could lure them all in from the North, and eventually they'd get here, and he'd be rid of these constructs for good! Yes. And he would do it using... mainly.... spoons. 

A frustrated cry echoes across the vast empty of Eastern Verk, as much of desert shrubland and rootin' tootin' cowboy giddy up as any sane man could handle. Honestly it's like being in the Mojave all over again, but with less scorpions. More snakes though, he's not fond of that at all. Snakes or not, Nemo has no idea what he's doing, how he's doing it or how he'll even manage to survive the encounter when it happens but he's banking on it. Luck favors his pathetic life, oddly enough. But he's only on a rented horse, so he has to hurry back. He hops up onto the mare's back, urging her forward, btu a sound stops him in his tracks. A scream, a yell and the sounds of some monstrous beast, just over the horizon. 

And Nemo, praying that luck favors the bold today, decides it's something worth investigating. The cyborg turns to horse around and begins the run towards whatever danger was closing in.