hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dead Men Walking

Entry tags:

Event Log: Dead Men Walking

Who: Everyone participating in the event!
What: The event log for the Dead Men Walking event!
Where: All around the city
When: September 14th-September 20th
Warnings: Zombies. Walkers. The Infected. Zeds. The undead. Risen.

Everything seems more or less normal in Hadriel on the 14th - at least at first. But wait, who's that over there? Why are they walking so weird? Are they feeling okay? Wow, did they just try to bite you? Oh shit, you might've seen a movie like this before. That was definitely a zombie.

But hey, it's no big deal. A few zombies here and there are pretty easy to avoid, especially when you can outrun them without too much trouble. They're only really dangerous if they're fast or if there are a lot of them, and they sure aren't fast! Only - well, before long, there are a lot of them. You can hardly go outside without running into one, and mobs form quickly. Went out for supplies? Let's hope they didn't follow you - you might get stuck in that shop, mobile corpses pounding on the door. Oh, and don't stand too close to the windows of your house. They'll be more than happy to smash the glass trying to get you.

Don't worry, though! A hard blow to the head will take these zombies out, and you'll be sitting pretty, as long as none of them bite you. None of them bit you... right? Wow, what a relief. We're all glad you're not concealing a life-threatening zombie bite from your friends! Who would do that, anyway? Now if you can manage that until the 20th, you'll be safe and sound as the zombies shamble out of the city. Hopefully you won't be shambling with them.

► This log covers September 14th-September 20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you join the zombie party, please let us know here!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ When Dean called, Castiel always always came running, was willing and quick, unprepared to let even a moment pass--so long as he was disposed to come, so long as he wasn't busy, or trapped, or in trouble himself. So long as he wasn't guilty about some such thing. His responsibilities and loyalty to Dean, however, had changed somewhat in the past two months, and so he didn't hesitate even for a moment. He took wing.

A moment later he was standing just behind Dean, not too far away, just naturally out of his line of sight. Dean turned to face him, and Castiel smiled, if only for half a second. Dean was injured, bleeding. No wonder he was calling for help.

He stepped forward immediately, looking around at the bodies that Dean had left at his feet. He moved closer, just as fast as he could, and he reached up to touch Dean's jaw, concerned for him, and fiercely protective.

His healing power spread from his fingertips, without even a breath of question. He didn't wait for permission, but even as he healed Dean's wounds, he felt something pushing back against him, rejecting his efforts, a taint that was spreading out underneath the surface. It was agitating the Mark, as well, its darkness roiling dangerously. ]

Dean. You've been hurt. Why didn't you call me sooner?

[ Dean didn't have to wait too long for Cas to make an appearance, something that he was both thankful for and kind of endeared to. Considering how long it had seemed, at times, that Cas was so insistent on hiding when he called, while other times he still tried his hardest despite all animosities between them. At times there was a push and pull to his appearances, and now to see him show up so easily--

Okay, so it was nice. Sue him. Not that he didn't think he would, but even so.

Cas was over in a blink of an eye and Dean stood, looking a little dumbly down at the angel as he took his jaw against his palm. He was completely unaware as to the crawl beneath his own skin of something murkier in an entirely different way from the Mark, more preoccupied with the pain from his palms than anything else. Though his focus still remained elsewhere when Cas began to speak, trying to come up with an explanation from the way he'd seen things. ]

I mean, I was kinda in the middle of things, Cas- [ but that wasn't the real answer to the question. ] Didn't notice it. I'm talkin', I went Terminator there for a minute, Mark's never done that before.

Terminator?

[ He didn't get the reference, and it took apart the rest of the explanation a little. Even so, he stroked his hand back from Dean's jaw to the wound to his throat, not healed despite his efforts. It was a blunt graze, unrecognizable, but no amount of his grace seemed to change it. His healing powers had been acting up, the last few days, and he was afraid. It frightened him.

But his concerns? His fears? He'd keep those to himself, at least for a little longer. He didn't want to worry Dean unnecessarily, and this... This was worrying, the very worst kind of worrying. It might have shown in his expression, the way his brow furrowed, his eyes finding Dean's even as they chased downward all over again. He reached for Dean's hands to take those instead. ]

You don't think it was the Mark? What did it feel like?

Edited 2016-09-14 21:55 (UTC)

[ Dean should've guessed that Cas wasn't gonna get the reference - he really needed to show him that flik sometime - but that wasn't the point. The point was he'd felt like a raging bull, like an adrenaline fueled junkie bashing his way through the crowd and while sure, there wasn't anything essentially bad about that, it wasn't as if he'd killed anyone on the good team, there was still something weird. And it either meant he was losing his fight with Mark, or implied something else. Right now, he just couldn't seem to grasp what it might be.

About to snag Cas' wrist, the angel made the move for him and went for his hands, an oddly comforting gesture despite his own obliviousness to the wound at his throat. Though, admittedly he did want to rub at his neck where Cas had been fussing, but now that he had a hold of his hands he couldn't do a thing about it, not wanting to wrench away just to itch. Instead he stood and tried to retain eye contact despite his urge to fidget and look away, nerves bearing down on him uncomfortably. ]

I don't know, it could've been. [ And that was an oddly shameful thing to admit, the fact that he didn't know, that nobody knew, that the information just wasn't at their fingertips. ]

I lost my head, wasn't thinkin' about anything. Wasn't feeling. It's always felt like something before.

[ Castiel truly wished he understood what Dean was feeling, and the description that he was giving, explaining this thing that wasn't the feeling that the Mark gave him... It made sense, perhaps. Demons felt; they truly did. They wouldn't torture people if they didn't thoroughly enjoy doing so. They wouldn't kill if they didn't enjoy that too. It wasn't just a means to an end. What Dean was describing wasn't demonic the same way that the Mark clearly was rooted in such darkness--it was something else.

He frowned, as Dean's chin briefly twitched toward his wounded side, perhaps an unconscious action as a response to an itch, or the memory of pain, Cas didn't know. His eyes twitched back up toward him a moment longer, and Castiel frowned at that as well. It hadn't been difficult to hold Dean's gaze for a while now, so the behavior was odd as well. Strange and different. ]

There's no more of them for a moment. Would you...um... Could you sit down, Dean? Just for a minute.

[ What did sitting down have to do with anything?

Dean wasn't quite sure where the request was coming from and he looked a little befuddled by it. The last thing he thought he looked was exhausted by all of this; if anything he was by far more prepared to spring back into action, to let them both get back to work, to do what they were supposed to be doing in all of this which was keeping people safe, not sitting on their asses.

But still, Cas had asked it of him, which he supposed made it a good enough reason to do so. Looking around himself, Dean dragged a palm away from Cas' grip to succumb to scratching at his neck absently, trying to look for a place to plop himself down for a moment, not really wanting to sit down on the ground - a vulnerable position if ever there was one. Except there just didn't seem to be any other options. ]

Now isn't really the time to be taking a breather...

[ But he still took Cas' other hand and pulled him closer towards the nearest building, settling his back against the wall and dropping lower until at least he was crouching near the ground. That counted, right? ]

[ Cas wasn't asking Dean to sit because he thought he looked tired. It was in an effort to get him to cool down, instead, to defuse the energy with which Dean was approaching the entire situation. It wouldn't do for him to carry on this way, and a pause would help.

He frowned, though, when Dean scratched at his neck, and followed with him when he was tugged, coming to crouch beside him, his expression every kind of concerned. ]

If it isn't the Mark that's doing this to you, then perhaps it's the influence I spoke to you about before.

[ He curled his hands a little tighter around both of Dean's. ]

[ Dean couldn't help it - this whole thing reminded him of the Croats. A thing that was imprinted on his mind like its own kind of disease, furious and terrifying in turn. Granted, those particular monsters were far more furious and actually ran like the devil; these were Romero-style, slow and loping and stupid. There was a difference and he told himself that a million times over, but that didn't change the fact that disease spread far too damn fast, killed too many people, took over too fast.

Letting his gaze follow back to Cas' face, Dean found himself ignoring the sentiment and instead focusing in on Cas' concern, finally giving in and using one of his own hands to tug Cas closer, pressing his palm to the angel's cheek. ]

Quit lookin' so worried, I haven't gone off the reservation. I'm right here.

[ Castiel didn't want to be pulled closer. He didn't want Dean's hand on his cheek, distracting him with comfort from the deep and abiding concern that was cutting through him. He lifted his own hand up and placed it against the back of Dean's, his brow furrowed, twisted up. ]

Please, Dean...

[ Be serious. He was just so worried about him, completely unable to find the words he needed, it seemed, to ensure that Dean shared his concerns. ]

You know that I will fight for you--that I will always be there?

[ Okay. This was getting weird. Or concerning. Or both. Something was up, and where Dean's lighthearted worries stood before, his triumphant fears now shown in the deep furrowing of his brow. He didn't have a clue why Cas seemed to be so suddenly up in arms about who knows what and he didn't want to be sitting on his ass having this conversation. There were zombies to fight, there were things to be doing, he couldn't just be sitting here having some heartfelt pow wow like they always did after other particular events.

Now wasn't the time for it.

So what the fuck was going on.

His fingers curled, tried to slip free from between Cas' cheek and his palm and he made as if he wanted to stand up again, to try and retreat from this because something was going on that he hadn't been told about; he felt so weirdly in the dark that his heart picked up speed and he finally gave Cas a sharp look, insistent and pleading. ]

You wanna tell me what's up?

Dean, please...

[ He was starting to sound like a broken record, and he tried to hold tight to Dean's hand to prevent him from pulling it away, even though it meant that he had to follow him up to his feet after him. He held on still, close to him, standing close to him so that Dean couldn't pull away. ]

I was at the clinic when they removed someone's leg this afternoon to prevent the spread of the infection. I tried to heal them, Dean--just like I tried to heal you.

[ His other hand went for Dean's throat, touching the wound there firmly. The flesh had grayed around the edges now, and Castiel knew full well what it meant, what it would come to mean. There was no way to excise this skin. It wasn't like he could lop off Dean's head to fix him. His brow twisted, furrowed deeper. ]

I need you to take this seriously. We can't be distracted.

[ And with that, it finally clicked. Dean's furrowed brow fell into seriousness, a solemn kind of terror that stood for a moment while the gears in his head turned a frantic racket. It was the dark kind of fear that stood silent for long moments and refused to budge, as if staring into a well of darkness that rose up and tried to swallow you whole. A realization if you will, a kind of thing where the moment arose and you simply had to acknowledge it for what it was, face the fact that there was something happening that couldn't be undone, the world had split open and was now going to swallow you whole no matter how you chose to look at it. Dean had lost count of the number of moments he'd faced like this one, bullets going through limbs and vampire's blood in his veins, and times where reality had been a thing that was unchangeable, furious and dark and momentous.

And then everything suddenly seemed to speed up, as if Dean had thrown the world into fast forward, moments tumbling over themselves to kick into action and Dean tried everything in his power to scurry back and away.

He'd been bitten. That's what this was, he'd been fucking bitten and he hadn't even noticed. He'd been too busy being unfeeling and out of his mind that something had sunk its teeth in when he hadn't been fast enough and now he was going to die. Nobody had thought to tell him yet that people around here happened to come back to life - because Sam was a dick and kept those kinds of secrets to himself - zombies weren't really even dead to begin with. It was a kind of thing that defied logic, the undead, and all Dean knew was that he now had to remove himself from the picture before he went and lost his head. Lost his everything, himself included.

Cas was making it exceedingly difficult to try and stumble away, to put space in between them, his brain shouting that he had to keep Cas safe from all this. Who knew if the angel could even become infected and wasn't that just un-fucking-fair. Not that it really mattered, but Dean was left shaking his head because why did their lives always have to come to moments like this? Why did it always have to end this way? ]

Distracted? You just said you couldn't do it. You can't fix this. [ It wasn't an accusation, it was just a fact. Point blank, Dean trying to leverage himself up with what needed to be done and what couldn't be helped. ] So I don't know what you think taking it seriously's gonna do when you've gotta get somewhere else.

[ He was not about to let him go. For all that Dean tried to writhe and pull away, Castiel tightened his grip in turn. It would take all of Rage's and the Mark's power for Dean to wrestle free, with Castiel as determined as he was to hold on to him, to keep him focused. They couldn't be distracted. They couldn't. ]

I can't, but that doesn't mean... That doesn't mean that there isn't a cure, Dean, or that this can't be stopped. We could ask one of the gods for their help, for their blessing.

[ He stared at him, trying not to look as hopeless as he felt. There was hope--there had to be hope. ]

You aren't going to hurt me.

[ He didn't believe that Dean wouldn't hurt him, if he changed, but that was beside the point. Now, in this moment, Dean possessed himself, and that hadn't changed, even if he was sick.

He wouldn't be heartbroken by this. He wouldn't be devastated. Castiel was a fighter, and after everything that they'd been through he believed in fighting until their last breath. But this, now? This was the man that he loved, and he had to admit that he found it hard--harder. The Mark had been a challenge by itself, but for Dean to be infected as well as this new alteration from the gods, it was at the verge of overwhelming him, of making it seem like the world was just that bit further out of his control than he could handle. ]

Now please. There are things that we can try, people that we can talk to. It isn't in either of us to simply give up.

Edited 2016-09-16 14:48 (UTC)

[ All Dean wanted to do was grab hold of Cas and shake. Shake as hard as he could, somehow make him see the goddamn light that there was nothing they could do. You couldn't save a Croat, you couldn't save a zombie, you couldn't save any of them - there wasn't a fucking cure and Dean knew it but Cas refused to see. And something told him that no amount of shaking was going to convince Cas of that fact, that he would fight until Dean had changed entirely, until the world proved to him that there was nothing he could do.

And even if Cas wouldn't get hurt in the long run, Dean didn't want him to have to watch. He wanted to stuff himself as far away as he could, but what he did instead was act without thinking, forcefully trying to wrench a hand away from Cas' grip so he could pull out his gun from his back pocket, holding it aloft between them. ]

Cas. If we don't stop this, i'm gonna hurt someone. And we both know there damn well isn't a cure for this thing, there's never a cure. This is the only thing we've got.

[ He was still trying to writhe himself away because he knew for a fact that Cas wouldn't be willing to kill him before he ate anyone alive. And so the task lay in his hands, didn't it. He wasn't going to take someone out and he wasn't going to see himself turn, either, a fact that had his stomach roiling in fear. He wasn't going to let it happen, and so he'd end it before it even came close. ]

[ If Castiel had been worried before, what Dean did next was positively frightening. Fear jumped right up Castiel's arms, a kind of terror that he hadn't felt since he'd lost control of his own body. It was enough to render him catatonic if not for the fact that love drove him to act, that his love for Dean simply wouldn't allow him to strike away his life like this, in a single blow. He wouldn't let him do it. He wouldn't let it happen.

Even as Dean tore out of his hands, Castiel was reaching for the gun, curling his own fingers around it. It was gone entirely a moment later, removed from his sight, from Dean's temptation. His eyes, suddenly wide and blue with panic and stricken, heartbroken innocence, now held hard on Dean, all but begging with him without saying a word.

But words would come as well. ]

Please don't do this, Dean. You owe it to me to try; to try everything. We can speak to Hope.

Cas--

[ Dean all but growled under his breath the second the gun was gone, watching his own easy solution vanish in an instant. He wanted to say that the second he tried to bite anyone, it would be Cas' fault for putting him in the line of fire, for putting anyone else in front of him, but most of all it was his own fault for his stupidity. For fucking up in the first place and not keeping better track of all his goddamn limbs and body parts. He should've seen that zombie coming from a goddamn mile away but now here they were and the only option, at least as Dean saw it, was to blow his own brains out before they liquified completely.

But the gun was gone and Cas was right in his own way, that he owed it to Cas to at least try what he could in an attempt to save what they had. Who knew how this was going to play out, but Dean was gritting his teeth against it because things just never played out well. He was never allowed his momentary happiness, never allowed a moment of good things, and as tight as he wanted to hold on, he was just as quick to let go in an instant in case of fire. Things were crashing down around his ears and he didn't see them getting back up again and for a moment his gaze flew skyward, cursing everything in existence for always ruining what was good in the world, before it came down again, gaze falling hard onto Cas. ]

You think no one else has tried that yet? C'mon, Cas- if it was that easy, these things wouldn't be here in the first place.

[ It would be Castiel's fault, and he knew that. Dean had been willing to end it and Cas had removed the possibility. He had to square himself with that. But he couldn't watch Dean die, or walk away knowing he was going to kill himself. He couldn't do it for him. Perhaps two months ago that would have been a possibility, but now it was something that he would fight with every ounce of his spirit.

And yet this? This was going to kill him anyway. The inability to save Dean? It would break him. He dug his heels in, defiantly, eyes hard and flinty. ]

You aren't dead yet. We can go to the clinic. Perhaps Simon has found a cure. [ He shook his head. ] No, that's not... That's not a good idea. If the poison is like snake venom, then it's important that you rest. It will give us more time. I can go to the clinic myself.

[ He pulled on Dean's elbow. ] Let's find you somewhere safe, away from the horde.

[ He had to be pragmatic, direct. He had to fight, because the alternative was letting his own fears overwhelm him, and it would be so easy. If Dean died, he would become one of these monsters, or worse, and Cas would lose him forever. How was that fair, when they'd only just found each other? ]

[ It only took a little more of Cas' insistence for Dean to crumble. Because the fact of the matter stood that he didn't want this to be real. He didn't want to be facing this bullshit down because it was going to break him, them, their little family. Dean was terrified of this thing that he was going to become, this undead creature that was stuck between life and death, never quite disappearing. Would they disappear like the rest of the monsters? Would Cas have to kill him? Would Sam? Dean didn't know and he didn't want to face it.

But most of all, he didn't want to lose this.

Swallowing hard and forcing himself to look away as Cas continued to speak, Dean was struck by the fact that if he sat within this any longer, that he was going to cry. A fact that made him feel unendingly ill, the same way he always did when tears were involved. This was miserable and broken and he was going to leave Cas to a kind of pain that he couldn't explain. Just like he was going to leave Sam. Again. Both of them, and it was going to be his own fault for being an idiot, for fucking all of it up in the face of things that had been going well for the first time in too long.

Blinking furiously hard and trying his hardest to refuse all of it, Dean looked back just as Cas was finishing up his words, tugging on his elbow and returning him to reality. The best he could do was whatever it was Cas wanted, giving him the chance to work his way through every last option until nothing was left. ]

Whatever you think'll help, Cas.

[ Whatever he thought would help. That was the despairing thought, wasn't it? That Dean was perhaps beyond help, that there was nothing that Castiel could do for him no matter how much he wished it into existence. That was the thing that was the least fair about all of this, the helplessness that infected him as a result of Dean's own infection.

Castiel didn't know how to cope with it; he'd only ever felt this way once before, and it was when his entire world had been falling down; his great plan to avert the apocalypse shot carelessly in the foot by an afterword. This was the same thing, a great despairing emptiness where all the powers that he had and all the dedication meant absolutely nothing.

Surely anything should be possible if you gave enough of yourself for it, that was what Sam and Dean had taught him after all, but this? It was just so unfair.

He worked his mouth, anxious and deeply unhappy, and then turned his face down into Dean's shoulder, wrapped an arm around him, and took him home. This... How could this be the way it was? Why was it happening like this? He wanted to just hold Dean and kiss all of this away, but even that wouldn't make it disappear, not now. It was devastating, and Cas didn't know how to deal with it. So he'd look for a cure. He'd try magic. He'd do anything once.

Back in their living room, where only a week or so ago Castiel had...made Dean a car, he once more urged him to take a seat. ]

Come here. Just sit, Dean. Sit.

[ Dean wasn't altogether surprised that Cas dragged him back home in an instant. There wasn't anywhere else around here they could go that really reeked of safety in the same way. What were they going to do- go to the caves? The river? Dean didn't know, not when his first instinct was to still beg Cas to off him before this got any worse. There weren't going to be any other solutions and they both knew it, knew that there would be no saving this, none.

It didn't matter how much of yourself you gave to some things, it just didn't. And even if Dean had learned that fighting until the death for what the world needed most often ended in their survival, sometimes it just didn't turn into a happy ending at the same time.

He'd come back from being a vampire though- but Samuel had a cure.

Nobody here had a cure for this. Nobody was going to pop up from the woodwork with a magical way to save the day because nobody had yet, and the fact of the matter was that Dean was going to change and it would be the end of it. It would be a face Dean didn't want Cas to see covering his own and that, more than anything, was something that scared him. Showing Sam, showing Cas, what kind of a creature he could turn into, just like he'd turned into a monster before Lisa and Ben. He didn't need it to happen again.

He didn't.

But he did as he was told, moving over to go sit on the edge of the couch, sinking his fingers down into his hair with a stern exhale. ]

Cas, if you just- just let me deal with this, okay?

[ This was not going to work. The way that Dean looked when he sat down said it all, that if Castiel left him, right now, to go hunting for a cure, then Dean wouldn't be here when he got back. Or worse, he would be here, but he would be perished. Neither option suited Castiel particularly well, and yet what was he going to do? That was just the kind of obstinate that Dean was. And for fair reason: he didn't want to see Cas hurt, especially not in the same way that he'd ultimately hurt Lisa and Ben.

He stayed on the spot, standing above the couch with his shoulders rising and falling, the stress evident in his posture. What was he going to do? He should probably call Sam. Shouldn't he? That way one of them could stay there with Dean while the other went looking for a cure.

Surely Dean wouldn't fight him on that? He squared his shoulders. ]

I'm going to call Sam. He should come and watch you. That way... [ That way what? Sam would get to watch his brother perish as well? Or maybe he'd agree with Dean, that he needed to be taken out first. ] I can't leave you here alone. I can't... I don't want...

No-

[ Dean almost jumped up immediately at the mention of telling Sam, terror striping across his features blank and brilliant and immovable. He didn't want Sam to know that he was dying, that he was already dead - it was hard enough for Cas to see him like this, but Sam? Sammy? No, that wasn't going to work and Dean gave a trembling, furious shake of his head, stubborn as anything as he tried to take a step towards Cas, arm outreached until he jerked it back, too many horror movie zombie descriptions of arms reaching for brains circling through his mind. ]

We leave Sam out of this. Cas, please, not yet- you can't- not again. I can't do it again.

[ Castiel's lips parted, briefly, and then his mouth closed again, and he stared at him sadly, almost hopelessly. The movement of thoughts behind Dean's eyes was enough that Cas couldn't miss them, and as he stared at him, the shape of them frightened him. It must be frightening Dean just as much.

So since Dean wouldn't touch him, since he seemed frightened to, Cas closed the space to him anyway, took his wrist and his forearm in both hands and pulled himself closer, pressing Dean's hand against his chest. He was afraid that they shouldn't embrace each other as well, but he couldn't resist touch when it was all they had left. ]

Doesn't he deserve to know? I thought that was... Isn't that how the two of you do things?

[ The touch made him more nervous than he could stand, somehow figuring he would lurch forward and try to eat Cas on the spot. It was a terrifying thing and it made his expression almost crunch into pained worry, unable to stand the thought that he might cause more pain without truly meaning to. He didn't want Cas in the crossfire of his transformation and he sure as hell didn't deserve the comfort that was being doled out when this was his fault to begin with.

But Cas pushed in closer, took hold of his arm and pressed into his chest and Dean hated the thought of recoiling that much more. He didn't want to turn away, didn't want to cause Cas that pain either and so he stayed put, curling fingers over Cas' own and trying to convince himself he wasn't a danger.

Yet. Because he would be. This wouldn't last for long, this calm. It was bound to be destroyed within minutes. Hours. Who knew. ]

The only thing telling him'll do is make him decide if he's going to have to kill me or not.

[ Castiel didn't know what to do with Dean's anxieties. It was the end of the road, and he could sense that. He felt it, viscerally, that this was it, and so he was afraid of walking away, terrified of putting any space between himself and Dean because he feared what would happen without him there to do anything to fix it.

Not that he could fix it. His healing was inept, useless. He didn't know a single spell that could do what angel magic couldn't. He was supposed to save Dean, protect him--what did it mean that he couldn't do that?

And it was going to tear him apart to hold him and watch him die, but there was nothing else that Cas would ever do, in this situation, but stay.

Even if Dean was afraid. Even if Dean was going to rip into his throat with his teeth at some point. ]

Then I have... I have to stay.

Event Log: Dead Men Walking

18th!

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