asgardeventide | 1st hunt [video]

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1st hunt [video]

[Mary's face flickers into view, showing a very confused-looking teenage girl who's staring into the camera (bracelet) with the intensity of a brain surgeon mid-operation. After a moment she seems to become aware that it's on and broadcasting, starts slightly, then sits back, talking at the camera with distinct awkwardness.]

Oh, god- is this even working? I- I think so. Okay, okay. [Clearing her throat and kind of sitting up a little.] Hi. My name is Mary Campbell and I know I'm not the only person trapped here.

[Deep breath. On closer view, she looks rattled. Like she's been crying, but long enough ago that she can hide it somewhat.] I don't know if anyone out there can hear me or if you know me, but I need help. If anybody can tell me what's really going on- and if there's any way to wake up. [Deep breaths, Mary. Keep it together.] I'd just really appreciate it.

[She takes a quick breath and moves as if to turn it off, but then abruptly spits out-] I'm in Sigyn. [She pronounces it wrong.] If that means anything to anyone. I don't know if it does. I don't know anything.

[A grimace (she knows she's losing her composure) and she turns the thing off abruptly.]

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[After taking his hand and pulling herself up, she wipes her eyes and takes another look around.]

So, there's really no way out?

[Dean dusts himself off, more for something to keep himself active than anything else. Dirt and grime are old pals of his.]

Haven't been able to find it if there is. Even tried a little angel mojo, but that failed just like everything else.

[Double

take.]

...Angel? You said you're from my world, right?

Uh. [Crap.] Yeah. Angels are a thing, apparently.

[...]

I can't deal with this. I can't. Your name isn't even Dean Van Halen, is it? What is it really?

[Because hunters never give their real names, do they?]

What does it matter? [PANIC] You barely know me, why does my real name make a difference?

Because- how can I trust you? How can I trust that anything you say is true? You came into my life acting weird, acting like you know something- don't lie to me, you're from the future, aren't you?

[And that all comes out in a rush of words that builds into rising almost-panic, though she doesn't really know why. Everything is pressing in around her and she can't breathe.]

[Dean stares at her evenly for a few moments before sighing, feeling everything deflate around him. It had been a shitty few days, why not just get it over with and pile more on top?]

My name's Dean Winchester.

[That? That gets her attention like nothing else today fucking has. She stops dead in the street, turns, and stares at him. Like she's never seen him before. Like she doesn't understand.

But the longer she stares, the more she gets it. Look at him- he looks like John. Like John's older brother.

Mary finally forces out a stunned, stupid whisper.]

You're a hunter. [Duh. Then:] That warning-

[He looks around for somewhere they can go, desperate to escape an explanation, escape this. Mary wasn't stupid, not by a long shot, and he knows she'll work it out eventually; not just that he was her son, but that she was destined to die just the same as her sons were destined to fall into the life she never wanted for them.]

[Oh no no no no. Mary grabs his jacket, on the edge of desperate and pushed too hard too soon after losing it over her parents. She's not letting him get out of this one.]

Dean, come on. Please.

What do you want me to say, m--

[He snaps his mouth closed quickly, looking away from her again. He can't do this, can't let her know everything that's down the road for her and hew family. Can't let her know that John dies for Dean, that both her sons spend time in Hell, that her boys are destined for so much evil and pain. He decides then and there to never let her know that her deal leads to everything, swearing to himself that he'll personally kill Sam or Cas if they breath even a single word of the matter to her.]

Dean. [Urgent now, almost angry in her desperation.] You were from the future, weren't you? Somehow? You're-

[She covers her mouth with a gasp, not able to get the words out. It's insane. It's impossible. It's the only thing that makes sense. The pieces all fall into place horribly: how awkward he got around her, his eagerness to meet her parents, that conversation, the warning, knowing where the Colt was. Even how weird he got about them having to get weather reports in the mail, all of it.]

The warning, you said- you said 1983, didn't you? That's. Ten years.

Nineteen-eighty-three was twenty-seven years ago.

But it's ten years ahead for me. You said- it was a day in November, wasn't it?

[Horror and recognition dawn in her eyes. It was ten years that he warned her not to get out of bed one night. Ten years exactly. Oh god, she can't breathe.]

You were warning me about- the demon.

[Dean's scrambling to hold on to what sanity he's got left at this point, trying to figure out a way out of this.]

I didn't know about the deal, it was a coincidence.

[Half of it is true, but another half is stupidity on his half. How had he not figured it out in time to stop it? The award for the biggest fuck up of the century goes to Dean Winchester.]

But you do. You saw me.

[The look she gives him then is... different. All she can see now is the headlights, Dean lunging out of the car and staring at her in horror, at her decision, at her shame- at her disgust at breaking away from Dad and wiping the taste from her mouth and wishing she couldn't smell sulfur.]

Please. Who are you?

[He's ready to hold his ground until she says "please", the single word breaking down the barriers he'd been scrambling to put up.]

... Your son.

No. [The word rushes out before the tears that follow, stinging at her eyes and blurring her vision slightly.] That can't be right.

I- [Hesitating. This is the part she doesn't really want to say, because she's bone-dead terrified of the answer.] -I wouldn't raise my kids as hunters.

[Dean clears his throat, looking away from her. He can't see her crying again because of him.]

You didn't raise us as hunters...

...What?

[She's so lost, too mentally fried to piece everything together on her own, and she's really sick of hunters and their evasiveness. She's been sick of it since she was five years old.]

You-- [The words choke off and he swallows down the lump in his throat.] You died. In eighty-three. It's what turned dad into a hunter, and he turned us into hunters.

[It's the answer some part of her was dreading but that she really, really didn't expect. Mary stumbles a little, feeling like something just punched her in the chest, wondering when all the air went out of her lungs. It makes an awful, horrible kind of sense, doesn't it? That's how new hunters are made.

Normally, Mary would be able to deal with that knowledge like an adult. Some tears, sure, since nobody could hear that and not be affected, but she could cope. Now, though, with everything pressing in around her she buries her face in her hands and presses hard, dragging her hands over her face to fist in her hair.]

It's all my fault. I did this. I did this.

No. [He finds himself moving closer, wanting to hug her and protect her and do everything he should've done back in seventy-three.] It's... this is gonna sound crazy, but it's a plan that's been in motion way before you made that deal.

I didn't have to take it. I didn't have to I should know better. He'd kill me if he-

[Her dad. He'd hit the roof if he knew his own daughter made a deal.

God, she doesn't even know if he knew before he died. Mary just sort of... keeps rambling, as if she doesn't hear him.]

-Oh my god, I'm gonna die.

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STAHP CRYIN MAMA ;A;

BUT EVERYTHING IS SAD (FUU)

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