reduced to being wrong, [open]

[Dean Aaron Winchester]

As he stood there, peering out beyond the green and into the destruction that was once a fully functioning city, he wondered if anyone blamed him. If fingers were secretly pointed in his direction, accusing him of neglect and cowardice to a world that needed him. A deep inhale of the cool breeze and a sharp glare in the distance, he raised his shoulders in silent defense to an aggressor that he couldn't see. And in his mind, he worked through all of the scenarios, all of the angry words and hateful stares that he could possibly have to go through.

He didn't just give up; there was more to it than that. This was supposed to be his mess and it was supposed to be his job to fix it, but how could anyone expect that from him? And his support system, his brother and the angel, had both abandoned him in one way or another. Sam had risen to take up his role of demon god and led the army, just as everyone had warned that he would, and Castiel had almost conveniently disappeared.

What had he been supposed to do? Face the army of Hell by himself? With a small handful of hunters that he would just lead to their deaths? He couldn't do it; he refused to be responsible for that sort of chaos and he hadn't been able to find the power within himself to fight anymore. His hope, his will and his reassurance had all left him, leaving behind someone so broken and incapable that Dean had simply left. He couldn't burden anyone with his presence anymore. Couldn't be the one that they relied on.

He ran his fingers down the bark of a tree, raising his eyes to watch the leaves shiver in the wind. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could truly fix this world. He honestly believed that. And looking at the life here, the colors of the vegetation that was just so scarce now, caused his heart to clench in sadness, in despair, and in anger. Anger at himself, perhaps, from poor decisions and the lack of foresight to intercept the horror.

But it wasn't all sadness and it wasn't all anger - there were still humans alive amidst the nightmare surrounding them. And they weren't all hunters; weren't all trained to be fighters, yet they kept on living and surviving. Those average Joes who had been office cronies, cashiers and underpaid employees had taken a stand, small as it was, for themselves and tried to continue life as it had been; the only way that they knew how. And in this life, they had picked up small tools to defend themselves, like the knowledge of a devil's trap and how far a bit of salt could take a person.

If there was still humanity, there was still hope.

Dean wasn't sure where to start. He knew what he wanted to do, more than anything, but how could he do it? Sam, his little brother, his best friend and his only family - he had to do something. The others, most of them, didn't know Sam aside from what they saw recently. The ones who knew him prior more than likely thought that this was a long time coming, but Dean knew him better than anyone in the goddamn world. This wasn't his brother. And he had to cling to the hope that Sam was around somewhere, lost inside of himself, and that there was a way to set him free.

He shook his head, leaning on the tree and focusing on the grass beneath his boots. There was a faraway look in his hazel eyes, an obvious testament to the thoughts curling through his mind, but he was fully alert. One couldn't live in this world without keeping their guard up, but Dean had this down to an art. His weapons were always within reach and he was always listening. Paranoia, he supposed, but it was necessary and the key to staying alive. Humans weren't the top of the food chain anymore; they were prey. Defending themselves was all that they could do.

And with a small shift in his weight, from hip to hip, the flat of his back pressed hard against the uneven surface of bark, he raised his head and took in a deep breath, vaguely wondering how long he could get away with being completely alone.

[Faith Victoria Walker]

Well hadn't the world changed.

When Faith had been young, her father had been one of the knights of Queen Elizabeth I of England. Money was never an issue - she always got what she wanted and sometimes what she didn't. Life was easier before she was sent to Hell.

Choosing sides was never easy, especially when the side you chose was visibly not the winning one. Having never really cared much for Lucifer and his band of pathetic demon wannabe's, it wasn't surprising when she left his side and hid with the Resistance when he first possessed Sam Winchester.
Sam Winchester - the AntiChrist - why of all people did Lucifer have to posses the one person who could have changed the outcome of this war? It just wasn't fair - Lucifer had the advantage. Or, he had. Until the other Winchester re-appeared.

When word had reached her that Dean Winchester had reappeared on the scene, she was feeling somewhat hopeful. Maybe they had a chance to win now. It had taken the Resistance a while to finally realise that Faith wasn't pretending to be on their side but when they realised that she was a valuable asset to them. Shaking her head, she walked across the ruined street to the park, the soles of her knee high boots hitting off the ground with each step she took. There had been a surprisingly lull in demonic activity meaning most of the hunters and other people had just been wandering about the city, making their own fun and getting drunk - anything to ease the pain that years of fighting had caused.

Moving round the park, she caught movement out the corner of her eye but didn't think anything of it. Why would she? It's not like demons - aside from herself and Ruby - could get past the walls. Shaking her head, she continued her walk, finally coming across a very dark looking Winchester. Standing back and off to the side, she observed him with curious brown eyes. His troubled hazel gaze, the frown lines on his forehead. Here was a man who carried more responsibilty than he should.

If Faith wasn't a demon, this was the type of man she could like - but she was so she didn't.

[Dean Aaron Winchester]

The thoughts that plagued him had never ceased. It had been years, years of the same worries and the same fears. That, however, couldn't hinder him. He had to find the strength to continue, and that was one of the reasons why he had come back. Tired of running and tired of hiding, he had to remind himself of what he could be. He had to prove to himself that he was capable of handling this.

And he had to save Sam.

Dean felt eyes on him. His body visibly stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he shifted to find the one watching him. What he met were a pair of big brown eyes and a pretty face, a woman that he recognized as a member of the Resistance. He seemed relieved, as if he had been expecting an attacker, and he offered her a small smile.

"Hey," he said with a slow nod of greeting. "Faith, right?" His smile widened slightly, from polite to conversational, although he certainly couldn't help the suspicious tension in his body language. His muscles were slowly relaxing - he was quite obviously jumpy. Sixteen years of being off of the job left him a little more anxious than he would have been in the past.

He was sure that it would go away with time, or at least he could hope so. He didn't want to be tightly wound.

Taking in the woman, he remembered instantly why he liked her. She was gorgeous, that was for sure. And, alright, so she looked a lot younger than him, but that had never stopped Dean before. But it wasn't completely about sex, really it wasn't, she was part of his team, right? He should have been expected to put some effort into meeting everyone separately. These were going to be people he would rely on; allow them to cover his back for him and keep him safe while he likewise looked out for them. It seemed important and pressing enough to know them.

That was, at least, a good cover story in this particular case.

He had absolutely no idea that the woman was a demon. He hadn't been there when she was accepted and he hadn't been there to watch her do her part within the group, so had he known what she really was, well, he would have been skeptical, to say the least. Demons, after all, weren't to be trusted and Dean was incredibly supportive of that fact. Ruby included.

"Out for a walk?" he asked, attempting to make small talk to seem friendlier than his demeanor may have told her.

[Faith Victoria Walker]

She couldn't help but notice how jumpy the man actually was until she took in his rigid appearence. It almost made her feel bad for interrupting, but not enough for her to comment. She folded her arms over her leather clad chest and shifted on her feet.

"Out for a walk?"

She let her dark eyes scan over him as a small smile tugged at her lips. He was handsome, she'd give him that, for a human that is. She wasn't looking forward to him finding out about her 'problem'. She'd heard all about the whole Sam/Dean/Ruby thing - how Ruby had tired to make Sam evil against Dean's wishes but in the end, it was something bigger that ruined the brothers. Ruby had a tendancy of boasting to her demon breathren about her relations with the ex-Winchester.

Blinking herself out of her thoughts, she remembered that she was being spoken to and looked over at Dean.

"Yes, it's not like there's much else to do between fights. What about you?"

[Dean Aaron Winchester]

Faith had an exceedingly strong presence about her, one that Dean couldn't pretend not to notice. It was odd and it was suffocating, but it was not something that he couldn't handle. He associated it with strong-willed souls and assertive individuals - Sam had always held the same sort of power about him. This, though, he had noticed in humans before, and he didn't think twice about it.

Her eyes were on him in a way that he could recognize as interested. It was a look he had been given a thousand times before; he could appreciate it from Faith. And he could return it, grinning at her in a way he had long since perfected. "Yeah, same deal." He glanced around himself at the plants and green; reasons enough to be out, "Needed some air."

Dean brought his attention back to Faith, pushing off of the tree that he had been leaning on to fully face her. She really was hot and fuck if he'd deny that. A lot had changed within him over the last several years, a lot, but some things just would never leave. A hot chick would always have his attention (minus a few "worse" days) and now was no exception.

"It's nice to see people out," he commented, voice a near-drawl that seemed to match the lazy grin on his face. "These 'down days' don't happen often, huh?"

There were questions he wanted to ask her, things he hadn't yet really had the opportunity to go through with other members of the Resistance, but he held them back. They needed to be worked into the conversation, if Faith was willing to chat for a minute or two. He was relying on the hope that she would.

[Faith Victoria Walker]

Faith allowed one of her arms to cross over her chest as she rested most of her weight on one of her hips. Though the novelty oof not hearing birds had worn off years ago but still she found herself glancing towards the sky. She decided that, if she ever saw Sam again, she'd punch him for ruining the world. She loved this world, it had changed, she knew that but still - it had a sort of edge to it. Maybe it was just her demon but she didn't really mind the dust and destruction.

"Those 'down days' don't happen often, huh?"

She shook her head, hair falling from behind her ear as she did so. Honestly, Faith couldn't remember the last time that she had a vacation. no wait, yes she could. It was about three months ago and she'd had a run in with a pack of werewolves and spent almost ten days in bed so her stitches holding her insides in. The wolf had quite enjoyed trying ot gut her like a fish and, had she not been a demon, would have succeeded. Now, seeing as Faith quite liked her meatsuit, she decided to leg it out of there rather than leave her body.

"The last day off I had was months ago"

She spent more days than not on her bike, with a different hunter on the back, heading out to do a new hunt. It had been on one of these hunts years back that she'd run into a very drunk Sam, he recognised her for what she was and begged her to do what Ruby refused to.

Help him save Dean - the very Dean who was very much alive in front of her.

She'd tried so hard, even offered to give up her humanity to go back to the pit and bring him out. But Sam had changed before she could. She'd been there when Lucifer had possessed him. It had been Ruby who, against her best wishes, had broken her out of the room and dragged her back to the Resistance. Licking her lips, she looked back up at Dean and offered a half smile.

"It's a luxury, not having to leave the city".

[Dean Aaron Winchester]

The end of the world hadn't entirely come. Bodies had been engulfed in flame, spirits dragged down to Hell, and the world had been destroyed, but everything as a whole hadn't stopped. It was, quite simply put, Hell on Earth. And in the destruction and chaos, the silence that followed was the part that made Dean cringe the most. The lack of natural sounds had been the first thing that he had truly noticed and accepted as an omen, and years later, those sounds had never returned. Even the wind didn't seem to make as much noise - silence draining and overtaking everything.

In this small haven where the grass was green and the trees were full, there were still no signs of the sounds that once rang out so strongly. Dean wasn't one to romanticize, but he truly did miss it - it made this all seem that much more wrong. But he refused to blame his brother and no matter what, he couldn't.

Faith answered him and Dean found himself nodding in understanding. Days off as a hunter had always been a rarity; that would never change. Even in 'retirement,' Dean hadn't had days off. He had never stopped doing small things, assisting without actually facing anything or coming out of hiding. And in this world, no one had the luxury of ever completely relaxing - everyone was afraid to look over their shoulder.

He had absolutely no idea that Faith and Sam had ever spoken. Perhaps, though, that was for the best.

"Yeah, better in here than out there," he agreed.

His smile faded a bit but didn't entirely leave. "Have long have you been involved in all this anyway?" One of the questions in a series that he had been wanting to ask her; that he wanted to ask everyone in the Resistance. It was just curiosity more than anything, to get to know these people and see what their experience was. He trusted their skills, he really did - if they had made it this far then that was enough proof for Dean right there - but that didn't stop him from wondering about everyone. He didn't know most of these people. He couldn't help it.

ooc: sorry about last night! i lost the internet and i waited a freaking hour for it to come back before i was like, "screw this." but i had this post done and couldn't post it, which was even more annoying. D< so... iluuuu.

[Faith Victoria Walker]

When the end had come, Faith had been part of the first group who'd ventured out to find the survivors. They'd found a group of kids in what they'd assumed was an old nuclear bomb shelter - two of them had claimed they'd been hearing voices, one was a psychotic werewolf and the other four had gone crazy.
They'd had no choice - it had been mercy killings. Not, of course, that that made it any better than killing in cold blood. When she'd put the bullet between that little girls eyes, she'd lost some of her treasured humanity for the very cause she fought for.

"Have long have you been involved in all this anyway?"

Faith furrowed her brow in thought, looking at the tree beside them as she tried to think back. It really depended on what he meant. She got involved a long time ago, before Dean was even born. She tapped her chin with her finger, finally deciding on an actual number before shrugging.

"Mmm, it's been a while since I got here. I was pretty green when I started."

It wasn't completely a lie. She had been pretty green, having had Sam as her only company for her first two and a half months out of hell before she'd approached the Resistance. She could tell him it had been almost sixteen years since she arrived here but then, he might get a little curious seeing as she looked only twenty now. She leant back against the trunk of the only remaining tree anywhere and watched the hunter.

"What about you? What made you come out of hiding?"

[Dean Aaron Winchester]

The moment that she asked him that question, Dean scoffed. "I wasn't hiding." It wasn't necessarily irritation that caused his eyes to narrow, at least, not irritation directed at Faith. That was just a term that made it seem so much more cowardly than he was willing to accept. God no.

Somewhere inside of himself, he didn't want to admit anything. He wasn't planning on telling her that he was afraid or that he simply didn't have it in him to hurt Sam, no matter how tyrannical he had become. It was all entirely true, but Dean wasn't much for sharing these details - not really with anyone, let alone someone he barely knew. So he didn't correct her, just pursed his lips and tried to relax away the frown line between his eyebrows.

He could hear the false-arrogant answer on his tongue, the one that would have slipped out had he not been paying attention. It would have been joking and would have been funny but it didn't seem appropriate. Rather than commenting on how great everyone must have felt to have him there and how he was such an asset, he shrugged the slightest bit and answered, "A lot of things."

....watching from afar for so long, seeing the suffering continue to rise, dealing with everything on his own, the idea that maybe he could save Sam....

"I guess I just really couldn't stand by and watch anymore... but it doesn't matter. I'm here - I wanna help." The smile that he gave her was a feeble one at best, but he wasn't going to give her a sob story. He then recomposed himself; the smile broadening, crows feet deepening as he joked, "And I know everyone was just dying t'have me here. Couldn't keep everyone waiting."

In the end, there were just a lot of things that would never change.

[Faith Victoria Walker]

"I wasn't hiding."

It had seemed she'd hit a nerve. Obviously hiding wasn't a Winchester trait - dropping off the radar or becoming a bloodthirsty homocidal maniac was instead. She tried not to give an amused smile at that thought - the last thing she really wanted was for Dean to think she was some sort of creepy assed lunatic who laughed for seemingly no reason, Not that she wasn't crazy - four centuries in hell tends to knock a few screws loose but she wasn't quite as crazy as Lilith yet.

She remembered a world without Dean well - the pain, the suffering part of it anyway. The fact that every night, the sky would ring with the screams of the demons latest victims. It was those screams that would call to her demon, make her blood boil and her hunger grow. She'd learned to staunch it and since Dean had been back...hell, it was almost as if Sam knew. The screams had stopped.

"A lot of things."

She could understand that - if it had been an option, she would have thankfully just crawled under a rock and hid from what was going on in the world. That was was safe - isolated and maddening, but safe.

"Yeah - you're here. That's all that matters anymore Dean. You're here to fight and hell; we need all the help we can get" she said softly, watching him from under her lashes before glancing away, "We're exhausting all our resources. Our people keep dying when they leave the city to find ammunition or survivors. There are very few actual hunters here - most of these people didn't know these things existed before the war..."