IIIIIIIIIIII AIN'T GOT NO BOOOOOOOOODYYYYY

[wearyheadtorest]

Who: The Ghost of Christmas Present. As in, WHAT THE HELL KIND OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT IS THIS, WHERE IS MY BODY, HOW DO I GET BACK? THIS SUCKS.
What: the could-be-more-triumphant-what-do-you-want-from-him-he's-a-goddamn-GHOST return of Dean Winchester.
Where: the Hellsing Guild Hall, the graveyard where he's buried, or anywhere else one of his frands/loved ones might be
When: somewhere within the last/next few days, he's just kinda floating around, chillin'.
Notes: If you want your character to be visited for some spectral trollrolling, tag into this post. I will put up a thread or two with general shenanigans... as I think of them. :|a
Warnings: Contains Dean Winchester.

The last thing that Dean knows he remembers is Dr. McCoy heroically working over him at the guild hall’s medical rooms. Sammy brought him there. Sammy’s a good kid, for all that Dean talks shit about him; just gotta toughen him up, that’s all, like Dad did for him.

McCoy’s a good doctor, too. Dean doesn’t always trust them but he likes this guy. Knows he’s trying his best. The last thing he remembers is McCoy frantically trying to stop some of his bleeding with gloved hands. But Dean knows he’s a goner. He knows if McCoy can’t save him, no one can, and he tells the doctor that.

…He thinks he told the doctor that. He’s not sure if the words actually left his lips with his last breath but he wanted to tell the doctor that.

After that, there’s darkness. And after the darkness, there’s confusion. It feels like he’s floating all the time, like he can’t get his feet on solid ground, and he’s trying to perceive the world around him through four wool hats that someone’s pulled down over his face. He can hear but it’s from a distance; he can see but not clearly.

He’s not in Hell. He doesn’t know why he’s not in Hell, but he’ll be damned—no pun intended—if he’s going to question that. He’s not alive, either, he knows he’s died.

Goddammit. He’s a goddamn ghost. Fan-fucking-tastic.

He has to get back. He has to figure out how to hang on here and get some help. If he didn’t report straight to Hell when he died… then there’s still wiggle room.

He tries to focus on what means the most to him, his reason for hanging on. That’s what ghosts do, when they don’t move on, right? They’re clinging to something.

He searches high and low for Sammy, tries to feel his way around whatever the hell state this is he’s in. But there’s no sign of him. Oh God, oh God, please let him have gone home. Please don’t let him be dead. Please don’t let Dean have failed him.

He tries again to find family. He realizes, at one point, all their lights are gathered in one spot. He’s not sure how he does it, but he gets there. He sees everyone filing in, sees the dress uniforms, sees the sad and upset faces.

Son of a bitch. He’s at his own funeral.

He loses it when he sees Liesl making her way into the service, holding her father’s hand. God, he screwed this up so bad. He abandoned her, Lyla, his friends, everyone.

He stands there among them at his graveside, heartbroken. He hopes they aren’t mad at him. He couldn’t take it if they were angry at him.

"I’m not mad," Liesl says as she passes by, aloud, and it stuns him. She heard him?

He has to go back.

His first attempt to go back takes him to the spot where he bit it, more or less. He finds himself in the street outside a convenience store. He goes inside—through the wall, what the hell was that—and tries to communicate but only winds up scaring someone.

…And somehow, grabbing an adult magazine. Look, his is not to argue, okay?

His second attempt finds him back at his grave. Dude. Not cool. He loses his temper, kicks at his gravestone. He gets surprised by a night watchman and somehow he throws his magazine (sob, his magazine) at the guy.

Dean retreats for a bit in frustration. He’s not sure how long he lingers in limbo. And then he thinks, I just want to go home…

…And he finds himself at the guild hall. He spends a few days practicing coming and going. He drifts in and out of the rooms. He manages to get his hands (figuratively) on some silver embroidery thread, and he leaves it for Nuala (where is she?).

He finds Liesl decorating a tree, and he helps, nudging tinsel onto branches she can’t reach. She thanks him, quietly, and it breaks his heart.

He has to get back. For real.

He starts trying, in earnest, to contact the people in the guild hall, and the people who are important to him. He’ll get through, somehow.