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Hello and welcome to Swan Song! We are an advanced Supernatural roleplay set in season five. We have an awesome member base, a friendly staff, and are always eager to greet guests and new members.
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Group: Hunters
Posts: 287
Member No.: 27
Joined: 5-April 11
dean winchester
PLAYER
AGE
MEMBER GROUP
dean winchester
33
hunter
personality
Once upon a time, a psychologist labelled Dean as a paranoid schizophrenic with a narcissistic personality disorder and religious psychosis. Of course, a medical profession who specialises in mental illness would read Dean’s insistence that the world was full of monsters that he needed to kill as paranoid schizophrenia rather than recognising that he was actually completely rational and lucid because hunting evil had been a very real job to him for the better part of thirty years. And naturally, the religious psychosis was just that to her, because everyone knows that angels and the Devil aren’t actually real. The only people who talk about the impending apocalypse tended towards the insane and institutionalised. She couldn’t have known that Dean’s own brother had been the one to set Lucifer free from his cage, nor that he himself had been dragged out of Hell by a bona fide angel of the Lord. No, that was just more ramblings of someone who was in need of serious psychological help. As for the narcissistic personality disorder…well, she hadn’t been too far wrong on that one. Assuming she had solely been describing the person that Dean wanted people to believe he was. Confident, self assured and brave. Just a shame, deep down he felt totally the opposite.
It seemed everything that doctor had labelled him was completely contradictory to the real personality Dean spent so much energy on concealing from those around him. He was more humble than heroic, over compensating for his fears than actually being self assured. Tackling his emotions was something he just didn’t do, not because he had everything squared away, but because pulling at the loose threads that held them together would just cause him to unravel at the seams with no hope of stitching back up again. Ironically, he really did need psychological help, just not for anything she thought he did.
Maybe he’d have said something to her about it if she hadn’t been a figment of his imagination while under the influence of a wraith’s hallucinations. Not that any of it matters now. Dean’s not that person any more. Not the heroic champion of good, the one man who Heaven itself was relying on to stop the apocalypse. The faker and the cheat. In the end it had been Sam who was the stronger brother. In the end Dean had realised that everything he was had always been for Sam, so when Sam jumped into Lucifer’s cage and out of Dean’s life forever, a part of Dean went with him.
At first he had been devastated, openly grieving in Sully’s arms, going against everything he’d ever been to end up practically clinging to her, sobbing like a lost little boy with no idea how to cope any more. The comfort she gave him was desperately needed and for the first couple of days, he craved her affection, but it didn’t take long to start blaming himself the way he always did. Grief turned to anger, which became obsession gradually taking over Dean’s life until stopped caring about anything else.
Where once Dean was a bright light in a dim room, the loss of his brother had allowed the depressing darkness to consume him, smothering the spark of passion and impulsiveness that drew other people to him like moths to a flame. He doesn’t laugh anymore, nor does he have any appetite for life, only a desire to find a way to get Sam out of the pit and save him from Lucifer’s grasp.
He still follows his instincts, though these days they’re frequently numbed by too much alcohol as Dean struggles to cope with debilitating grief. Most nights, unless drunk enough to pass out, he is plagued by horrific nightmares, of his own Hell and of Sam’s, that won’t let him rest which only fuels his depression when he wakes the next day even more exhausted than the night before.
On dark, lonely nights he contemplates killing himself, taking the easy road down to Hell to go find Sam directly, but cowardice always stays his hand when he reaches for the trigger on his gun. Checking out that way wouldn’t be what Sam would want, even if Dean couldn’t keep any of his other promises to him. Besides, his misery is his own brand of punishment for failing his family at every turn. Forgiving himself might just prove to be even harder than getting his brother back and he’s too busy doing the latter to want to try the first.
history
It had been the worst day of Dean’s life when he’d watched Sam say yes to Lucifer. He’d trusted his brother to know what he was doing, he knew the hour was approaching where he would have to say goodbye to him but at the end of the day, saving the world, defeating the Devil, they were only a small consolation for Dean after Sam had willingly sacrificed himself to the pit. His brother was gone and there hadn’t been a damn thing Dean could do about it. Lucifer had broken him into pieces using Sam’s fists to do it, the only thing he’d had left was the conviction to not leave his only remaining family when they needed him the most. If Dean could have gone with Sam to Hell, he would have jumped with him in a heart beat. But there were other people to consider. Other people who needed him. He just didn’t know how much use he could be knowing that Sam was suffering in torment beneath his feet.
Before the final battle, Sam had made him promise just one thing, a last request if you will. To not try and find a way to save him, to settle down with Sully and live his life with no regrets. Naturally Dean agreed because he was never any good at denying that puppy dog look Sam got when he wanted something. For a while at least, he tried to live up to that promise too, but the guilt inside him started to wear at the cracks and it wasn’t long before he was obsessing over finding a way to bring Sam back. At the very least, he needed to save Sam from Lucifer’s cage. The nightmares he had about what Sam would be going through were enough to never let him truly rest.
Sully was supportive, perhaps foolishly so, as Dean dragged her around from state to state, growing ever more desperate in his quest to free his brother. More and more he began to risk his own life, and consequently Sully’s too, until one fateful night he agreed a meeting with a demon he should have known better than to trust. The bomb blast at the warehouse was devastating, triggered the second he’d opened the front door to the place, so very eager to walk into a trap if it meant that there was hope for Sam. It was Sully that bore the brunt of the damage though. When he finally came to and was able to drag himself out from the rubble, he found her in bad shape at the back of the ruined building, burnt and bleeding as a result of a mistake he’d made.
Ignoring his own injuries, Dean rushed her to the hospital where he was informed that the extent of her wounds meant that she might never get the use of her leg back again. Sully’s hunting days were over. The guilt crushed him, and as he sat beside her bed, watching over her unconscious, broken body, he knew it was all his fault. He was that guy who crashed into people and ruined their lives before they had a chance to swerve out of the way, all because he refused to change direction.
Sully didn’t deserve to be dragged down into the mud with him and there was only one way he knew how to spare her. She’d hate him for it, but it would be for her own good. Hopefully one day she might understand that. Dean had to leave her or risk being the reason she got killed. However he wasn’t going to abandon her without first attempting to fix as much of the damage as he could and he certainly wasn‘t going to leave her on her own.
Once or twice in the past, Sully had mentioned her biological father to him, a man Dean knew was the reason she had the powers she did. If anyone could heal her, it would be Alex and if he couldn‘t do that, at the very least she would have a familiar face around when she woke up. Naturally, Dean wasn’t surprised that Alex wasn’t his biggest fan. After all the things he’d put Sully through, he couldn’t blame the man for being relieved that Dean was cutting himself out of her life for good.
After one last visit to the hospital and one last goodbye to the woman he loved before she woke up, Dean walked out of the door and never looked back. Hitting the road again, he swore to himself that he’d never let anyone get close to him the way Sully had, unwilling to ever put another person in danger because of his obsession with saving Sam.
The months rolled by and Dean’s isolation escalated. As the lead’s pertaining to Lucifer’s cage dried up and his drinking increased, depression consumed him until eventually he became a mere shell of a man, dead on the inside and just going through the motions. Everything reminded him of Sam or Sully until eventually he couldn’t take it anymore, quitting hunting all together.
He moved into a house in the suburbs, the last place anyone from his old life would come looking for him, and put the Impala into storage in the garage, covering it up to avoid having to be reminded of everything it represented. Odd jobs paid the rent and fuelled his drinking problem but for the most part Dean just kept his head down and tried not to think about Sam suffering for him in Hell. With any luck, the liquor would kill him quick and he could join his brother again.
misc
Dean will be set up at the house he was in at the start of season 6 on the show, only with the noteable exception of Lisa and Ben.
Group: Hunters
Posts: 287
Member No.: 27
Joined: 5-April 11
Yes, I did intend to add more to this but I missed my slot the first time around so have been holding off as per instructions. Let me know when you need this done by and I'll sort it out.
Group: Admin
Posts: 103
Member No.: 269
Joined: 24-May 12
Please leave a reply with a 450x300 image link and the necessary information in code, and I'll get your app finished up. Thanks!
dean winchester,
lyrics
AGE
OCCUPATION
MEMBER GROUP
33
hunter and all around bad ass full time older brother
hunter
NICKNAMES
Cowboy (by Sully), Deanosaur (by Ali); The Dean; Best-night-of-my-life-Dean; Deano (By Meg, much to his dislike);100's of aliases
LOCATION
Has a house in Cicero, Indiana
BIRTHDAY
24th january, 1979
SEXUALITY
straight
PLAY BY
jensen ackles
THE PLAYER
Many know me as Dean, but occasionally the MM signal is shone into the sky and I don my spandex, grab my cape and put on my mask to become The Minx! Yes, you guessed it, I am in fact a chick. Don't worry, you'll probably forget that again soon, most do. I'm open to smutty rp, love bad language and violence and am not afraid to post with anyone. That being said, I can be a very slow poster, don't bother asking for a thread if you get easily irritated by that. You can usually find me in the IC cbox anyway, I'm very accesible there.
LISTS
personality
Dean's personality has many layers and while most people only see the veneered act that he displays on the surface, the reality goes much deeper.
First and foremost he is an action man, very impulsive and passionate about fighting the good fight. He trusts his instincts to lead him in the right direction where as his brother prefers to think things through before acting. He’ll kill without question and can be ruthless and aggressive at times, yet tender and caring when dealing with vulnerable people.
Despite mercilessly teasing and often arguing with Sammy, Dean loves his brother and would do anything for him, even going so far as to sell his soul to a demon which resulted in him going to Hell. Now that he’s escaped the pit, Dean’s fun-loving, carefree attitude has suffered a decline (though his womanising ways don’t appear to have changed) and soul destroying guilt has replaced it. He tries not to let it show but sometimes memories of Hell become overwhelming and his self worth is lower than ever before. In an effort to deal with that, he’s become a heavy drinker in a bid to numb himself enough to get through each day.
Once upon a time, a psychologist labelled Dean as a paranoid schizophrenic with a narcissistic personality disorder and religious psychosis. Of course, a medical profession who specialises in mental illness would read Dean’s insistence that the world was full of monsters that he needed to kill as paranoid schizophrenia rather than recognising that he was actually completely rational and lucid because hunting evil had been a very real job to him for the better part of thirty years. And naturally, the religious psychosis was just that to her, because everyone knows that angels and the Devil aren’t actually real. The only people who talk about the impending apocalypse tended towards the insane and institutionalised. She couldn’t have known that Dean’s own brother had been the one to set Lucifer free from his cage, nor that he himself had been dragged out of Hell by a bona fide angel of the Lord. No, that was just more ramblings of someone who was in need of serious psychological help. As for the narcissistic personality disorder…well, she hadn’t been too far wrong on that one. Assuming she had solely been describing the person that Dean wanted people to believe he was. Confident, self assured and brave. Just a shame, deep down he felt totally the opposite.
It seemed everything that doctor had labelled him was completely contradictory to the real personality Dean spent so much energy on concealing from those around him. He was more humble than heroic, over compensating for his fears than actually being self assured. Tackling his emotions was something he just didn’t do, not because he had everything squared away, but because pulling at the loose threads that held them together would just cause him to unravel at the seams with no hope of stitching back up again. Ironically, he really did need psychological help, just not for anything she thought he did.
Maybe he’d have said something to her about it if she hadn’t been a figment of his imagination while under the influence of a wraith’s hallucinations. Not that any of it matters now. Dean’s not that person any more. Not the heroic champion of good, the one man who Heaven itself was relying on to stop the apocalypse. The faker and the cheat. In the end it had been Sam who was the stronger brother. In the end Dean had realised that everything he was had always been for Sam, so when Sam jumped into Lucifer’s cage and out of Dean’s life forever, a part of Dean went with him.
At first he had been devastated, openly grieving in Sully’s arms, going against everything he’d ever been to end up practically clinging to her, sobbing like a lost little boy with no idea how to cope any more. The comfort she gave him was desperately needed and for the first couple of days, he craved her affection, but it didn’t take long to start blaming himself the way he always did. Grief turned to anger, which became obsession gradually taking over Dean’s life until stopped caring about anything else.
Where once Dean was a bright light in a dim room, the loss of his brother had allowed the depressing darkness to consume him, smothering the spark of passion and impulsiveness that drew other people to him like moths to a flame. He doesn’t laugh anymore, nor does he have any appetite for life, only a desire to find a way to get Sam out of the pit and save him from Lucifer’s grasp.
He still follows his instincts, though these days they’re frequently numbed by too much alcohol as Dean struggles to cope with debilitating grief. Most nights, unless drunk enough to pass out, he is plagued by horrific nightmares, of his own Hell and of Sam’s, that won’t let him rest which only fuels his depression when he wakes the next day even more exhausted than the night before.
On dark, lonely nights he contemplates killing himself, taking the easy road down to Hell to go find Sam directly, but cowardice always stays his hand when he reaches for the trigger on his gun. Checking out that way wouldn’t be what Sam would want, even if Dean couldn’t keep any of his other promises to him. Besides, his misery is his own brand of punishment for failing his family at every turn. Forgiving himself might just prove to be even harder than getting his brother back and he’s too busy doing the latter to want to try the first.
history
Most people who know the Winchester’s well, know of the tragic story behind how hunting became a family business. For Dean, it began when he was just four years old, when a yellow eyed demon murdered his mother, Mary, and burned down his house. From then on, things changed. His father, driven by the need to find answers and get revenge, gradually got sucked into the mysterious world of the supernatural, dragging Dean and his younger brother, Sam, out onto the highways and byways of America in the hunt for evil.
John, Dean’s father, had once been a military man, a Marine no less, and he passed on his vast knowledge of warfare and survival skills to both of his children, though it was always Dean who thrived on the hunt more than Sam. He knew from an early age it was what he wanted to be. A hunter, just like his old man. Someone who could be counted on to protect Sam from the bad things that lurked in the dark. It became his purpose in life and in the process he put aside his own wants and needs in order to become the perfect soldier John wanted him to be.
But after a particularly nasty run in with their nemesis, the yellow eyed demon, things took a turn for the worse. Dean suffered his first real brush with Death and only survived because of his father’s sacrifice, selling his own soul to save Dean’s. With his father - his mentor dead, Dean began to fall apart and when, almost a year later, his younger brother was murdered, he completely lost himself to despair and fears of loneliness. He didn’t want to go on without Sam and, taking a leaf out of his father’s book, he too sold his soul to bring him back from the dead.
Unlike John though, he was given one year to live before the hellhounds would come and drag him to Hell. It wasn’t long enough. Soon his time was up and no amount of plea bargaining or fighting would save him. Lilith, the white eyed demon who held his contract, took his soul with glee, relishing the moment that the hounds tore his body to shreds in front of Sam’s very eyes before his one way trip down to the pit.
In Hell he was tortured mercilessly every day for thirty years, gradually shattered into broken pieces by Hell’s chief torturer, Alastair, who at the end of every day would offer him a chance to get off the rack he was bound to if only he would take up the knife and torture others instead. For thirty years Dean said no, but then one day his resolve broke. He couldn’t take the pain anymore and he gave in and said yes. Little did he know that the moment he picked up Alastair’s razor and began cutting into another soul, that he was breaking the first seal that would spell the beginning of the Apocalypse.
So for another ten years he became Alastair’s favourite protégé, honing his skills as a torture master, every day losing another part of his soul to the darkness. He was set on the path to becoming a demon, the very thing he’d once despised so much, when something unexpected happened. Or rather, someone unexpected appeared to rescue him from his eternal damnation.
His name was Castiel and he was an angel of the Lord, plucking Dean from the fire and brimstone he’d accepted was his destiny, and returning him to his old body back on Earth. It was just a shame the angel hadn’t dug it up out of his grave first, because clawing your way up from your final resting place turned out to be fairly traumatic.
As it turned out, Dean’s forty years in Hell had only been six months on Earth and thankfully Sam was still alive, as was their old friend Bobby Singer, a man Dean saw as a surrogate father figure after the loss of John years previously. The three of them attempted to figure out how Dean could be back as though he’d never been away while Dean kept secret his knowledge of everything that happened when he was down in Hell. He was ashamed at how easily he thought he’d broken, guilt ridden by his actions, so much so that he began to drink heavily. He also showed symptoms of post traumatic stress, lacking the ability to get through a night of sleep without suffering nightmares of Hell. Which was probably why it took him so long to realise that Sam wasn’t the same brother he used to know.
While Dean had been busy in the pit, Sam had been doing some demon socialising of his own, notably with Ruby, a demon who’d tried to convince them both she was on their side even before Dean had died. Of course he never trusted her, unlike Sam, who blindly followed her lead in his brother’s absence because he thought she could help him get revenge on Lilith for what had happened to Dean. Ruby tricked him into becoming addicted to demon blood, using Sam to break the final seal - killing Lilith - which in turn freed Lucifer from his cage in Hell. If it hadn’t been for the fact the angels wanted it to happen, then Dean might have been able to get there in time to stop Sam from making the same mistake he had in Hell. But alas, he wasn’t. And thus begins the story of how the apocalypse came around.
Of course, not very many people know that, going around telling everyone you could be to blame for the potential deaths of billions would just get you lynched, so Dean keeps it to himself in order to protect Sam. Even after everything, looking out for his brother is his purpose in life. He failed once before, he’s sworn never to make the same mistake again.
Back before the final seal had been broken, Dean crossed paths with another hunter named Lane Sullivan. Despite Dean’s uncanny ability to charm the pants off any woman he met, his relationship with Sully was not love at first sight. Or even second sight. In fact they spent more time fighting with each other than they did hunting evil, but despite the friction, they did make a pretty good team when it mattered. Somehow they were able to put their differences aside to kill demons and save each other’s asses now and then, only to go right back to bitching at each other the moment the hunt was over. Never the less, Dean thought of her as a friend, all be it a pain in the ass friend, but someone he could count on if need be.
So when one day he got a desperate phone message from Sully, asking him for help, Dean felt obliged to track her down and see what kind of trouble she'd gotten herself into. However that was easier said that done since Sully had practically vanished off the face of the earth. For months Dean tracked every implausible lead he could find in the hopes of finding out what had happened to his missing friend, fearing that she was long since dead but unable to just let her disappear without proeperly finding out why.
The trail led him to the middle of the Californian desert and an old abandoned nuclear bunker that a couple of skinwalkers were using as their hideout. It was were Sully had been kept prisoner, the victim of a kidnapping that turned deadly and torturous for her. Dean arrived in the nick of time, but the battle to save Sully's life left them both in bad shape, forced to try and survive in the middle of nowhere when their means of escape had been cut off.
He hadn't expected that in the process of surviving, they'd become close friends, sharing intimate secrets about their past with each other that they hadn't told to anyone else. A bond had been formed that would never be broken, a sort of dependancy on the other that wasn't sexual, but was loving all the same. Two broken souls that together made a whole.
Eventually they were able to limp painfully back to civilisation, the protective bubble that the isolation had formed around them finally bursting to let reality back in again. Once more they went their separate ways, keeping in touch occasionally when a hunt required additional back up but neither of them ever really spoke about what had happened in the bunker, nor how much the other really meant to them. It was like an unspoken law, a silent pact that those chick flick moments didn't really happen. They'd continue to bicker and argue like children, but underneath there would always be the subtle gestures of trust and care for one another whether they realised it or not.
Thoughts of Sully have been pushed to the back of Dean's mind these days though as the revelation that he was the Michael Sword came to light. The Michael Sword is Heaven's weapon against Lucifer, the human vessel that the strongest arch angel, Michael, will inhabit when the final battle between devil and angel takes place. However in order for Michael to take Dean's body, Dean must first give his consent, something which for a long time he was adament he would never do.
But saying no could be even worse.
It had been the worst day of Dean’s life when he’d watched Sam say yes to Lucifer. He’d trusted his brother to know what he was doing, he knew the hour was approaching where he would have to say goodbye to him but at the end of the day, saving the world, defeating the Devil, they were only a small consolation for Dean after Sam had willingly sacrificed himself to the pit. His brother was gone and there hadn’t been a damn thing Dean could do about it. Lucifer had broken him into pieces using Sam’s fists to do it, the only thing he’d had left was the conviction to not leave his only remaining family when they needed him the most. If Dean could have gone with Sam to Hell, he would have jumped with him in a heart beat. But there were other people to consider. Other people who needed him. He just didn’t know how much use he could be knowing that Sam was suffering in torment beneath his feet.
Before the final battle, Sam had made him promise just one thing, a last request if you will. To not try and find a way to save him, to settle down with Sully and live his life with no regrets. Naturally Dean agreed because he was never any good at denying that puppy dog look Sam got when he wanted something. For a while at least, he tried to live up to that promise too, but the guilt inside him started to wear at the cracks and it wasn’t long before he was obsessing over finding a way to bring Sam back. At the very least, he needed to save Sam from Lucifer’s cage. The nightmares he had about what Sam would be going through were enough to never let him truly rest.
Sully was supportive, perhaps foolishly so, as Dean dragged her around from state to state, growing ever more desperate in his quest to free his brother. More and more he began to risk his own life, and consequently Sully’s too, until one fateful night he agreed a meeting with a demon he should have known better than to trust. The bomb blast at the warehouse was devastating, triggered the second he’d opened the front door to the place, so very eager to walk into a trap if it meant that there was hope for Sam. It was Sully that bore the brunt of the damage though. When he finally came to and was able to drag himself out from the rubble, he found her in bad shape at the back of the ruined building, burnt and bleeding as a result of a mistake he’d made.
Ignoring his own injuries, Dean rushed her to the hospital where he was informed that the extent of her wounds meant that she might never get the use of her leg back again. Sully’s hunting days were over. The guilt crushed him, and as he sat beside her bed, watching over her unconscious, broken body, he knew it was all his fault. He was that guy who crashed into people and ruined their lives before they had a chance to swerve out of the way, all because he refused to change direction.
Sully didn’t deserve to be dragged down into the mud with him and there was only one way he knew how to spare her. She’d hate him for it, but it would be for her own good. Hopefully one day she might understand that. Dean had to leave her or risk being the reason she got killed. However he wasn’t going to abandon her without first attempting to fix as much of the damage as he could and he certainly wasn‘t going to leave her on her own.
Once or twice in the past, Sully had mentioned her biological father to him, a man Dean knew was the reason she had the powers she did. If anyone could heal her, it would be Alex and if he couldn‘t do that, at the very least she would have a familiar face around when she woke up. Naturally, Dean wasn’t surprised that Alex wasn’t his biggest fan. After all the things he’d put Sully through, he couldn’t blame the man for being relieved that Dean was cutting himself out of her life for good.
After one last visit to the hospital and one last goodbye to the woman he loved before she woke up, Dean walked out of the door and never looked back. Hitting the road again, he swore to himself that he’d never let anyone get close to him the way Sully had, unwilling to ever put another person in danger because of his obsession with saving Sam.
The months rolled by and Dean’s isolation escalated. As the lead’s pertaining to Lucifer’s cage dried up and his drinking increased, depression consumed him until eventually he became a mere shell of a man, dead on the inside and just going through the motions. Everything reminded him of Sam or Sully until eventually he couldn’t take it anymore, quitting hunting all together.
He moved into a house in the suburbs, the last place anyone from his old life would come looking for him, and put the Impala into storage in the garage, covering it up to avoid having to be reminded of everything it represented. Odd jobs paid the rent and fuelled his drinking problem but for the most part Dean just kept his head down and tried not to think about Sam suffering for him in Hell. With any luck, the liquor would kill him quick and he could join his brother again.
RP SAMPLE
“Don’t you fucking quit on me now, dammit!” Dean shouted in desperation when all his attempts to rouse Sully gave him no response in return. He lifted one of her eyelids up and watched to see if the pupil reacted to light, but there was nothing. He did the same with the other one and felt his fears rise when again, there was no reaction.
You're not dead. I didn’t come all this way for you to just up and die on me when I saved your ass!
Shifting her off his lap, he laid her flat out on the ground and leaned over her, putting his ear to her mouth to listen for breath whilst watching her chest to see if there was any movement. At first he thought she was just shallow breathing but it soon became evident that she wasn’t breathing at all.
“No, you do not get to give up yet!”
Thanks to his father, Dean had been trained from an early age how to administer CPR, just in case the worst happened on a hunt and he needed to save a life. He’d used it many times with mixed results. More often than not, it worked, but sometimes people were just too far gone for the kiss of life to bring them back. He hoped that Sully wasn’t going to fall into that category.
Tipping her head back and pinching her nose, he opened her mouth and pressed his to it, forming a seal so that he could breath air into her lungs for her. Her chest rose and fell as though she was breathing normally but then it stopped again. Dean gave her another breath and pressed two fingers to her neck to check she still had a pulse.
She didn’t.
“Dammit, you’re not making this easy!”
There was no time to be delicate or to have concerns for Sully’s dignity when she had already been stripped to her underwear by the sick bastards that had tortured her, he needed to get her heart going and the only way to do so was to press the heal of his hand to the middle of her chest and press down on it with his other to compress her heart and make it pump. It would have made his day if she’d woken up and smacked him for copping a feel while she was unconscious, but all he got was silence.
One, two, three, four…
He counted in his head up to thirty as he steadily compressed her chest, not put off by the slight shift in bones under his palms that denoted she’d probably gotten a few broken ribs already. They didn’t matter if he couldn’t get her heart started again, so there was no point in worrying about them now. He also pushed aside how much his arm hurt doing this, the bite wound half visible under the folded sleeve of his shirt. His blood ran down to mix with Sully’s on her chest, a mixture of old and new making different coloured patterns over her pale skin.
Twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty…breathe…
He stopped compressions and pinched Sully’s nose again to administer another lungful of oxygen to her, pausing briefly to see if it was having any effect. Still nothing. So he went back to chest compressions and repeated the cycle all over again. And again, gradually beginning to feel his arm throb painfully and his hopes dwindling.
“C’mon…” He urged after the fifth breath garnered him no response. Even a hard punch to her heart in frustration didn’t jolt it back to life.
What I wouldn’t give for a defibrillator right...about…now…
His eyes fell upon the cattle prod that lay fallen on the ground a few feet away. He’d shot it earlier to knock it away, but it might still work if it wasn’t too badly damaged. Hastily he scrambled over to grab it, testing it once in thin air to see if he could still get the spark of electricity to jump between the two prongs at the end. His face lit up with gratitude when it worked.
“Yes! Thank you baby.” Moving back to Sully’s side, he wasted no time in pressing the end to her chest, over her heart, shocking her in a short burst that make her back arch up off the ground.
Should have wished for a heart monitor too…
He put his fingers to Sully’s pulse point again and waited for a moment, dismayed that the first try hadn’t worked. So he did it again, cringing at the way her body bucked under the device. So ironic that the implement of her torture could turn out to be the thing that saved her life. The second time he shocked her, he didn’t need to feel for a pulse, he got a more immediate reaction when she suddenly gasped for a breath.
“Oh thank God.” He breathed out in relief, tossing the cattle prod to the side so he could properly check that she was indeed back in the land of the living.
“Okay, easy…take it easy. Just breathe.” He coached patiently, cupping the side of her face to help her find focus on him. She looked confused and disorientated, a feeling he knew only too well after his many return trips to Death's door. It was going to take her a little time to adjust.
“Dean?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” He couldn’t help but smile down at her, happy that she was alive and pleased that she actually recognised him.
“You’re okay, I got you. It’s over.” He soothed, his words eerily similar too those he’d used to bring Sully back from the nightmares she’d been forced into back when they’d hunted a Mara together.
Group: Hunters
Posts: 287
Member No.: 27
Joined: 5-April 11
My picture:
Nicknames:
Cowboy (by Sully), Deanosaur (by Ali); The Dean; Best-night-of-my-life-Dean; Deano (By Meg, much to his dislike);100's of aliases
Location:
Has a house in Cicero, Indiana
The player:
Many know me as Dean, but occasionally the MM signal is shone into the sky and I don my spandex, grab my cape and put on my mask to become The Minx! Yes, you guessed it, I am in fact a chick. Don't worry, you'll probably forget that again soon, most do. I'm open to smutty rp, love bad language and violence and am not afraid to post with anyone. That being said, I can be a very slow poster, don't bother asking for a thread if you get easily irritated by that. You can usually find me in the IC cbox anyway, I'm very accesible there.
Quirks/habits:
<option>Bites nails when worried</option> <option>Eats bad food</option> <option>Is messy with dirty laundry</option> <option>Treats the Impala like the love of his life</option> <option>Defaults to sarcasm instead of the truth when talking about himself</option> <option>Is allergic to chick flick moments</option> <option>Makes inappropriate comments at insensitive times ("What's in the box!?")</option> <option>Flirts with the vast majority of women who cross his path, regardless of relationship status</option> <option>Cries single manly tears of angst when thoroughly upset</option> <option>Sleeps fully clothed when expecting to have to be ready for action at a moments notice</option> <option>Also sleeps with a big damn knife under the pillow for protection</option> <option>Sings off key, but makes up for that with volume</option> <option>Has no shame about watching cartoon porn online</option>
Dean Winchester - Hunter, App Returned to Character Directory
