hadriel_logs | I know you... [Closed]

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I know you... [Closed]

Who: Noah Czerny and Dean Winchester
What: Question if you meet someone in a dream and then in real life which one counts as your first meeting?
Where: Around the shops.
When: Near the end of the dreamwalker event, during daytime hours!
Warnings: Likely just a boatload of swearing but I'll update if that changes.

Some nights lately Noah had woken exhausted, more tired than when he went to bed in the first place. He wondered if that was what Gansey and Ronan felt like, if that was the cause of their insomnia. Well, if that was it, he could understand having a part of you so fiercely against sleep that it refused to come.

The last few nights had been good, though. Good enough that Noah felt comfortable going on a shop run on his own. The horrors they were subjected to seemed regulated only to when they slept - the daytime was relatively safe by comparison. So, bag slung over his shoulder, he hummed to himself as he went from one shop to the next.

Of course, he was still a bit jumpy whenever he heard someone approaching, but that was kind of standard Noah.

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Dean'd had enough of the goddamn dreams. Really, he had. But even more than that, he'd had enough of the Mark and the way it blew his brain out simply by being there, the distraction of it undeniably frustrating, leaving him to hunt for near every distraction that existed. Which was perhaps out why he was buying booze - not enormous quantities even though the temptation was there, but at the very least beers to bring back to the apartment.

Which was right around when he saw him. The kid from one of his better dreams, the same dream he had all too often except without additional passengers. It had been strange when he'd woken up and thought about it, something that he kept so close that had been altered by someone here. And not in a way that felt overly intrusive, no- it had actually been just the right kind of pleasant.

Granted, Dean kind of sucked at introductions in the real world. Stopping in his tracks, he lifted his chin, gave a shout, "Hey! You- Buddy." before making his way over, beer hiked up against his hip, interest lifting his eyebrows.

Noah jumps at the 'hey' - he can't help it. Coward. Loud noises startle him. Especially when he knows this is not a dream and there's no safety involved like there is there.

A quick look around shows no one else around that Dean could be talking to, so Noah kind of points to himself and mouths 'me?' before oh okay Dean is coming towards him. Noah's first thought goes to when everyone went crazy and started trying to kill each other. A second later he pieces together the semi-familiar parts of Dean's face. It's changed a lot from the boy Noah saw in the dream, but the bone structure is still there. More helpfully, so is the resemblance to adult Sam, who Noah has seen before. The transition from 'FEAR! STRANGER DANGER!' to dawning familiarity to curiosity is clear, he's got no poker face.

"Oh! Uh... it's you... the kid with the car..." Not really a kid at all anymore, though.

Oops.

Dean almost feels bad for what seems like giving the kid a heart attack. He supposes he could've gone about it a different way, some other gentler approach but when has Dean ever been the type to do that? No, instead he has to watch him go from something akin to fear (which is utterly reasonable, way to not just let anyone go running up to you) to recognition. That look that finally slips into place when you've been recognized but can't quite remember all the things you're supposed to know about person.

Finally making it the rest of the way over, Dean flicks a slight smile into place, a momentary greeting. "That'd be me, yeah. Don't got the car here, though." So no street racing lessons. Bummer.

The smile gets one in return, even if it's more shy and awkward. Dream Noah was much more outgoing, but Dream Dean was also much shorter. Still, it's nice to see he hasn't become some complete stranger.

Noah gives a great sigh of disappointment.

"No one has cars here. I guess there's no real infrastructure to take care of the pot holes in the road though."

Ay, it's okay. Everything's easier in happier dreams, and especially considering that one came from a universe that never existed in the first place? It was a hell of lot easier for Dean to be happier in it too. But as it stands now, Dean's still intrigued and halfway intends to scope this kid out simply because of the fact that he was inside his head in the first place. Which really- not a lot of people get that weird ass opportunity.

Dean scrunches his nose a bit at that one, glances around for a second like he might see a road sprouting from nowhere at all. "Just one more thing to miss about home, I guess. Along with the burgers."

Because: priorities.

Priorities indeed. Noah can agree to that, as he's in the same boat there. Bit by bit he relaxes into the conversation, feeling silly about being a bit nervous in the first place but that nervousness doesn't magically vanish just because he's self-conscious about it. Unfortunately.

"Dude they didn't even have alcohol here until like, five, six weeks ago? That was fucked. I still haven't found gelato either. Just my luck."

Oh, there's no need to feel silly about being nervous - Dean would more than understand. Because while he isn't exactly jumpy himself, he's still a wayward bundle of unease around people he's entirely unsure about. But at least right now, Noah has the benefit of having crept into his dreams first, which makes it by far easier to remain less suspicious.

Though, he does look pretty aghast at the idea of not having liquor around.

"You're serious. There was no booze? What- did one of the gods bring it in, start feeling bad for people?" He sounds mildly offended by that but at least he carries on, "They don't have ice cream, either? Or are you just being that guy."

"I'm not being that guy," Noah says defensively, though in perfect honesty he probably would be that guy if there was ice cream but no gelato. "I haven't found anything iced or creamed at the same time yet. It's totally lame."

He shifts his duffle bag from one arm to the other so he can push his bangs out of his eyes a bit.

"We got alcohol when Delight was revived. She made the bar. Before that the only way to get it was if you were friends with Ed, since he can just make it appear out of thin air. Which I was, but. Variety. And I didn't want him to think that was the only reason I hung out with him."

Dean quirks an eyebrow because man, he can so tell that you would be that guy, but he doesn't mean it in a terribly unkind way. He's only making fun, a surefire sign that he's already perfectly fine with Noah's company as a whole. Teasing is the best he's got when it comes to meeting new people; welcome to the crew.

"Yeah, well maybe if we're all good little soldiers they'll start sending an ice cream truck around." Unlikely, but, yanno.

But Dean still snorts because booze is a totally legitimate reason for wanting to hang out with someone. Like being seventeen and having a twenty-one year old friend just for the perks of them wafting whatever they happen to buy in your direction. "Leave it to Delight to make a goddamn bar. Not that i'm complaining, but i'm thinking she missed the memo on what kinda drunks we all probably are."

Noah laughs, his strange breathless and mostly soundless laugh at that.

"I'll have you know I'm a very delightful drunk." Well he's a happy, giggly, friendly drunk, and that's basically the same thing, isn't it? "As long as someone delightfully holds my hair back for me the next day."

He also gets terrible hangovers. Every. Time.

"Oh yeah, i'm sure you are. Because we're all so damn delightful around here." Which is to say, Dean is happy to get everyone drunk all the time, because he basically lives life that way. Leave it to the functional alcoholic to push booze on people, which might be why he pulls out a beer and holds it out, all friendly like.

Noah totally doesn't have to take it, not in the slightest, but Dean is at least attempting to figure out how to be a friend.

"That's why they chose us, after all."

Wow okay Noah is totally taking that. He even shifts the bag on his arm so he can take it and open it right there.

It isn't like there are any cops to cite him for underage drinking or open containers on the sidewalk.

Noah does make a bit of a grimace after the first drink of it. He unironically and unashamedly prefers the fruity sugary stuff, but beggars can't be choosers and he's close enough to being a functional alcoholic that he's not about to turn it down ever.

"Thanks. You got - ah - errands or whatever?" Noah wants to make sure he's not holding Dean up or anything. The mood has relaxed significantly, but Noah's always a little anxious.

Oh hey awesome- always a contributor to underage drinking, that Dean. Not that he gives a shit one way or another about the legal side of this, it's more the fact that he's sharing at all that holds sway. He likes the kid already and somehow feels a weird appreciation for putting up with his piss poor driving habits. For that he can't help but feel like he owes him a beer and at least the start of something akin to the more realistic side of what his friendship means.

"Me?" Dean glances around himself, honestly somewhat surprised by the question, looking as if he's waiting for these errands to miraculously appear,"Nah, around here? I ain't got shit to do. We just ran out of groceries. Figured i'd be the only one to fix the damn problem."

And by groceries, he obviously means booze. Anything to keep the liquor flowing.

Noah can’t argue with the importance of alcohol among groceries, though he’s not picking any up himself. Yet, anyway. Mainly because he still has some vodka stashed away.

It should also be noted that Dean isn’t even at the top of the list for questionable friends Noah has made. Bad influences are kind of his type.

“Ha, yeah. Adam mostly handles the groceries but I figured I’d try to help out here and there. He’s got a full time job being the responsible one between the five of us.” Noah none the less has no problems at all slacking off on said errands.

"The five of you?"

That is like. Way more people than Dean knows how to handle. Which isn't even remotely true, he's used to having a wild array at his side. But they're never with him the way Sammy and Cas are, not really. They're usually just... backup, though he never means it in a cruel way. Family is always family, and where there used to be more of it, there is now significantly less.

So it's kind of hard to think about more people than the two that he's got. And five? All of which are apparently here? Is a lot.

"Yeah. Adam, Ronan, Gansey, and Blue. All my friends from home." There's the weight to the words in that sentence - that all of them are from his home, yes, but that they are also the entirety of Noah's friends group.

There's no halfway with them. Ride or die types, all of them, an exclusionary friendship with no room for casual acquaintances.

Also Noah being dead cuts down his potential friends group rather significantly.

"I know it kinda sucks they're here but... I'm selfishly glad they are. I couldn't handle being alone."

All his friends from home. All of them. That's... interesting.

Granted, he's not exactly one to talk either, what with both of his people being here. It sure makes them seem like the most social people in existence, knowing that their families can be counted out on one hand but that's not the important part. The size of his family never mattered to Dean so much as its existence in the first place and while he knows how to go it alone, he also knows for sure that he hates doing it.

"I get it. I got my people here- Sammy, Cas. Not like they can't hold their own against this kinda shit-" He waves a hand around, implicating whatever disaster zone this place is and will likely always be, "And i'm not gonna lie, home's not much better, but they've still got a right to be there. I'll take 'em here, though. At least while i'm staying."

"I met Sam," Noah says with a smile. "Like, not in the dream. Before, when he first showed up. I was kinda dead at the time but..." he shrugs. Like being dead is no big deal and something that just happens from time to time. 'Cas' though - "Oh, 'Cas' - is that Castiel, the angel?"

Noah's still a little amazed at there being angels. Like for real-real. Demons, somehow, seem so much more easier to swallow than the divine.

Okay wait hold up kiddo, you can't just throw that in there and expect Dean not to notice. He makes a sort of boggled face at the comment, somewhere between caught off guard and utterly confused. Even if he agrees completely - demonic entities are by far easier to swallow than those of any kind of angelic, holy variety, but even so--

"Yeah, yeah- Cas the angel. So wait, you met him when you were dead?"

Did you really think that was just going to slip right on by?

To be fair, for a long time no one could understand or hear when Noah told them. Because magic. He's learned the hard way to be more careful about what he says to who in regards to that after sending one person into a PTSD fit, but he was so relaxed around Dean... old habits die hard.

Not like Noah. He died pretty easily.

"Oh. Yeah. Uh." Noah wonders where he should start with that. With the being killed by a Yeti and being a ghost for a while because of special circumstances (because he asked) or ...

Maybe better to start back at the beginning, yeah.

"Um. Like. I got a body now. All real and fleshy and needing to eat and sleep and I can totally get drunk again which is great. But. ... I kinda died seven years ago when my best friend beat my face in with my skateboard. To try and use my death as a ritual sacrifice. He didn't really do it right. But. That's, uh. Kinda my deal."

Look, buddy, you did ask.

There are a million places to start with that. Maybe a million and one. Dean's not entirely sure, but at the very least he's good (sometimes) at listening to tales of woe exactly like this one and while it's utterly unexpected, he's also grown used to hearing things like this. It's his life, this supernatural business, these deaths, and there's nothing uniquely strange about hearing things like this.

Apart from the tragedy of it. That always digs deep, always strikes pain into his core because the torment of life isn't ever something to degrade. So Dean's expression manages to turn somber for a moment, an inch of darkness behind it because best friends shouldn't beat best friends to death.

Especially over ritualistic sacrifices. There is always another way.

Always.

"Sounds like you need something stronger than a beer."

He nods towards the bottle, voice a little more gruff than it had been a moment before and considering the fact that Noah had just offered up his story, Dean can't help but feel as if he owes something in return. "Makes you feel any better, i've died a few times too- so hey, turns out we got more than cars in common."

While Noah was a little anxious and hesitant while Dean lapsed into thoughtful silence, the smile comes back after he speaks again. Not carefree exactly, there's a sadness to it, but it's one Noah's long since accepted.

"Did you get to come back, then? My friend Gansey died too but he got better. Beer's fine for now. I'm actually a lightweight - not that it stops me from the hard liquor and the hangovers that come after."

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