[ jack does follow. he's not arguing with dean over any of this any more. if he wants him to follow him, sure. get out and direct traffic, why not. it doesn't matter. dean, sam and cas are everything to him. they're all he has, his entire world. he follows, and once inside, jack lingers in the entry way, bags of tacos clutched to his chest, eyes skimming the apartment for a moment, but quickly coming back to dean. he's unsure what to do here, how this is supposed to work, feels awkward inside his bones and out of place in the very dean-like space around them.
he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a huge weight lifted off of him the second dean reassures him that he's not being abandoned, eyes falling closed for a second as he lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. but god, he hates watching dean worry about him when he can't even look at him. ]
Okay. [ jack murmurs quietly anyway, nodding softly, despite the deep furrow in his brow and the sad way he watches the side of dean's face. he doesn't have to do this for him. tell him he's family when he robbed dean of something that's actual family, but nonetheless, he appreciates it. that he's still willing, that he's trying, though, it's clearly hurting him. ] Thank you.
[ this isn't right. maybe jack would prefer getting punched in the throat, though it isn't nearly even, and he has no idea how much of his physiology stayed, so punching him in the throat may do some actual damage now. they all keep giving and giving and giving for him, and what has jack done in return? he managed to kill michael, but look at the cost. he found mary in apocalypse world, but he lost kaia to do it. now they want him to throw down with God? how much more catastrophe is that going to bring?
the world will be lucky if jack ever touches his powers again, here or at home. whatever new thing this place gave him, jack's sure he not interested, as it stands.
digging a hand into one of the bags, jack fishes out two of the tacos wrapped up in paper, then holds one out to dean. want a taco, buddy?
regardless of how long his arm might hang in the air there, holding out the food, eventually jack folds into the emotion, watching dean, watching his pain, knowing he caused it. mary's gone, she's gone, and it wasn't some unavoidable thing, it wasn't some incident of circumstance like Kelly. mary's gone because jack killed her, and he feels his stomach twist, like his insides are trying to crawl out of his skin.
he asks quietly, but honestly, a tremor in his voice otherwise thick with self-loathing. ]
no subject
he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a huge weight lifted off of him the second dean reassures him that he's not being abandoned, eyes falling closed for a second as he lets out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. but god, he hates watching dean worry about him when he can't even look at him. ]
Okay. [ jack murmurs quietly anyway, nodding softly, despite the deep furrow in his brow and the sad way he watches the side of dean's face. he doesn't have to do this for him. tell him he's family when he robbed dean of something that's actual family, but nonetheless, he appreciates it. that he's still willing, that he's trying, though, it's clearly hurting him. ] Thank you.
[ this isn't right. maybe jack would prefer getting punched in the throat, though it isn't nearly even, and he has no idea how much of his physiology stayed, so punching him in the throat may do some actual damage now. they all keep giving and giving and giving for him, and what has jack done in return? he managed to kill michael, but look at the cost. he found mary in apocalypse world, but he lost kaia to do it. now they want him to throw down with God? how much more catastrophe is that going to bring?
the world will be lucky if jack ever touches his powers again, here or at home. whatever new thing this place gave him, jack's sure he not interested, as it stands.
digging a hand into one of the bags, jack fishes out two of the tacos wrapped up in paper, then holds one out to dean. want a taco, buddy?
regardless of how long his arm might hang in the air there, holding out the food, eventually jack folds into the emotion, watching dean, watching his pain, knowing he caused it. mary's gone, she's gone, and it wasn't some unavoidable thing, it wasn't some incident of circumstance like Kelly. mary's gone because jack killed her, and he feels his stomach twist, like his insides are trying to crawl out of his skin.
he asks quietly, but honestly, a tremor in his voice otherwise thick with self-loathing. ]
How can you stand being near me?