donttrustmyself: (Default)
Dean Winchester (ApocoDean) ([personal profile] donttrustmyself) wrote in [personal profile] tiredofurinating 2025-04-10 08:02 pm (UTC)

They all did what they needed to do to survive. There's no need or desire to play the blame game.

Dean's other self hadn't listened quite as well to that advice, but it had worked out in the end. Dean sometimes wonders if it had worked out the way the angels had intended or if they'd rebelled, however unconsciously, again. Dean purses his lips, considering Sam's suggestion of talking to Castiel about this town. He's gathered some information from the various residents. "Apparently, it used to be this bizarro demon 1950s compound situation, which explains a lot." Including the influx of classic cars which means that Dean has a great deal of work should he want it. Seventy-five-year-old cars, no matter how well taken care of, need attention. It also happens to be something that Dean loves doing. He's fixed a few cars for people in trade for things. He's considered, at Lucy's prodding, opening up a mechanic's shop. No one has really taken up the current shop in town. "A bunch of people cleared out after they came to their senses. Lucy wasn't one of them." His tone of voice says he's judging her sanity on that front. "But they've got a stash of goods to rival most preppers, houses aren't owned by anyone and everything is still hooked up to utilities so..." he gestures with one hand like all of the supernatural and alternate timeline people make sense. In a way, he supposes it does.

Dean nods in agreement with Sam's comment. He is adjusting as well. "Seems too good to be true. Like someone is going to yank the rug out from underneath us at any minute."


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