[ Quietly reaches for dad. Also: You’re an ass. ]
dadimissedyouDo you want the long answer or a bullet-point list? ]
I’m serious, dude. Scan first. Don’t check your email. Don’t check your history. Don’t open your browser at all. Run the boot-up scan, then restart it again.
-He was getting dangerously close to computer nerd here. He needed to go do something manly after this. Something manly like, grab a beer. Open it with his teeth, then spitting the cap into the garbage can across the room. Yeah, that felt a little more socially acceptable.-
Oh, I can do a lot of things. Most of them I didn’t learn on porn site forums. But that one I did.
Dude, shut up, I know. This isn’t the first time I dealt with you touching my crap.
[ Because, excuse him, maybe he wasn’t geeking out with code, but it certainly never froze on his watch. Once the screen lit, he typed in his password quickly, intending to change it once he had the chance, and a thought struck. He always changed it. Usually, he assumed the laptop didn’t entirely shut down or maybe he picked a predictable password; now, it was beginning to look like his brother was tech savvy. Throwing a scrutinizing look, he made a note to pick something entirely uncharacteristic this time around. ]
Yeah, sure. I doubt even you learned all that for porn. [ Click, click, and good, already slipping to his feet. ] Gonna let it scan while we grab something. Know where we’re going?
It’ll be pretty fuckin’ close to killin’ me. [He hadn’t really been detoxed from anything before, except for the fact that he had to go without alcohol in Hell. Even when he had denied it, the alcohol was an addiction and it made the first two weeks 10x worst than what should have been. Speaking of which, he could use a drink right now—]
[The syringe made Dean’s nerves calm a bit, though they didn’t disappear completely.] Nothing lethal for you. How do you think I’m going to react to it? [The unknown reaction made Dean start to sweat; beads forming on his forehead.]
Honestly? I don’t know.
[ But he was already slipping forward, deliberately grabbing the opposite shoulder to hold the demon still as he brought the tip down into his brother’s exposed throat. Jaw tense, his eyes shifted from the slow, careful injection to Dean’s face, searching for something and not quite finding it. Just as quickly, he pulled his hand back with curiously wide eyes, brows drawn together and hopeful. ]
“Your Dad – he’s in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says “hi”, by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood.”
[With Sam removing his knee, Dean gave a sigh before hunching over even more. At least his brother was ‘kind enough’ to give him a bit of relief. Biting his lower lip, the eldest looked up and watched what the other was doing.]
[He couldn’t deny that with Sam gathering supplies that he was scared. Sam was going to kill him, and Dean would never see him again. Swallowing hard, he shook his head.] You’re going to fucking kill me.
[The book freaked him out the most, and Dean sat down so that he was able to watch Sam try this technique. He then crossed his legs.] Nothin’ I can say is going to change this, is it?
[ Sam didn’t make a habit of reassuring demons, but this was Dean, and in that voice, with the obvious waxing fear, he couldn’t help a sympathetic look. Quickly, he stepped forward, hiked up his sleeve and and made a show of carefully (or as carefully as his trembling hands could) jabbing the syringe into his skin and slow-w-wly withdrawing the first hit. ]
This is what I’m doing, Dean. It’s not gonna kill you. [ A flinch, and he withdrew the needle, moving forward to squat just outside of the circle. ] It’s my blood. Not poison, not —holy water, nothing lethal, okay? This is the final trial. Think about it… I took down a hellhound, freed a soul from Heaven; the last part can’t be as simple as something we used to do practically everyday.
[ A meaningful lift of his brows. ]
I give my word as your brother: I’m not killing you.
Let’s see here. This is Windows right? -Doesn’t wait for his brother to answer. Busy doing things.-
-Continues typing away, then clicks a few things. Uncheck, uncheck, uncheck.- Sam, dude, seriously. Get malware protection or something. This is ridiculous, only one of these is possibly from me. Now! -Beckons him over.- When this restarts, go run your antivirus software, virus should be gone then.
If that doesn’t work, then I’ll shell out the $100 for professional virus removal. After tacos.
[ Curiously watching his brother actually do something, which was proof that, well, he could do things, which he knew. But, half the time, the jerk was rolling around in a massage bed. It reminded him of an episode from some old sitcom, where the husband pretended to be bad at chores to get out of —doing chores.
A minute frown at the mini-lecture, before scooting forward cooperatively. ]
… Okay, tacos. After I scan. [ Pulling the laptop nearer, he gave it a look-over as the fan began humming angrily. ] I didn’t know you could do that. —You don’t even own a computer, and don’t tell me you learned just to screw with me.
I could make it worse, but I want to eat tonight. So I won’t. C’mon Sammy. You think as many times as I’ve done that they’ve all been accidental? So maybe I can’t myspace, but I can fix it.
[ Self consciously lessens frown, because he totally didn’t make any “faces”. ]
Fine. [ Reluctantly sliding it back over to with a distrustful look that bordered on accusatory. ] But, if you do, nothing’s off limits. —You know I put up with a lot from you, and this is the one thing you’re supposed to leave alone. The one thing.
Fine, Killjoy McFuneater, give it here, I’ll fix it.
—No. [ Childishly turning away from to fiddle with the usual keys if only to dislodge that stupid picture of himself. ] You’ll just make it worse.
When Lucifer occupied Sam, he brought forth the remainder of Azazel’s gang and slaughtered them.
This was the first time in a while Sam felt that —good.