#✦ thread: drop your weapon (jason todd & dean winchester)

[normaltothemax]

Intervention Starters “Drop your weapon.” (jason but here we are. ooooh the drama)

Anger tinted green, shining out through his eyes, making them glow that toxic, neon hue of the Pit.

Now, Jason liked to think he was a pretty patient guy. He could handle a lot of shit hurled his way. But there was something about John goddamn Winchester that just managed to get under his skin, since the second he’d met him. It wasn’t even anything he’d said to Jason that’d set him off, but the buildup of every word that’d come out of his mouth and been directed towards Dean. Cutting remarks, condescension, so much bullshit that’d only served to piss Jason off more and more.

Still, he’d kept his mouth shut, because Dean was a grown-ass man who could fight his own battles and this was between him and his father.

But then John took it a step too far. He fucking dared to lay a hand on Dean. Grabbed him by the collar and slammed him back against a wall in their own fucking home. Jason was there in an instant, the barrel of a gun pressed against John’s temple, the only thing stopping him from pulling the trigger being Dean’s presence.

Pit or no Pit, he didn’t like to kill abusers in front of the people they hurt, if he could help it.

Just like that, the Pit had swallowed Jason whole, brought with it that familiar, serene certainty that what he was doing was right. “Do you have any idea what I do to pieces of shit like you that like to throw their kids around?” His voice was quiet, cold, and completely calm. Jason wasn’t here anymore; this was the Red Hood out in full force.

“Drop your weapon.”

Dean’s voice cut loudly through the whispers of the Pit, the ones telling him to do it, pull the trigger, make him pay, he deserved it. Jason didn’t look away from his target, but he did hesitate. This was the right thing to do, he knew that. The Pit had told him so. So why was Dean defending him?

“Dean…”

@therebetterbepie (x)

[normaltothemax]

The amount of time it took for John to leave felt like an eternity, Jason balanced on a razor’s edge the entire time. If he moved, twitched, breathed wrong, he would snap, he was sure of it, so he remained perfectly still, all but holding his breath to keep from putting an end to Dean’s daddy issues right then and there.

Then finally, finally, the man was gone, the door shutting behind him with a solid thud. Still, Jason didn’t move. Didn’t trust himself not to just immediately go after him like he wanted to. Every inch of his body was tense; he couldn’t even look at Dean. Barely noticed his hands sweeping up and down his arms. Just kept staring at the door, teeth clenched, grip on his gun tight enough to create finger-sized indents. He’d find that a shame, later—it was a good gun.

It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s alright, Jay. It’s alright.

“It’s not,” he snarled, jerking away. He stomped away from Dean, slammed his gun down on the table, only just having the forethought to click the safety back on before doing so. Then he was pacing, wearing tracks into the floor. A caged tiger ready to bite at the slightest provocation.

Jason had all this anger, now, and he didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t have anyone but Dean here to take it out on. He didn’t want to take it out on Dean. But the Pit was screaming for blood, Jason wanted blood, and it was like a siren’s song, near impossible to ignore. He wanted to shout and hit and rage. Wanted to bash someone’s head in with a tire iron and fill someone else’s body with lead. He was feeling heads in a duffle bag angry, and it would be terrifying, if he could feel anything other than pure rage, right now.

With a shout, his fist flew through the nearest wall—the tiny amount of satisfaction it brought him was nowhere near enough. He spared the window a glance as he extracted his hand; it was late enough in the day for the Red Hood to be out and about. That would solve his problems nicely. He stalked towards the bedroom in search of his gear, figuring he could take this green-tinted rage out on someone deserving, someone who wasn’t Dean. He could satisfy the Pit’s bloodlust without hurting the man he loved.

And if he just so happened to run into one John Winchester while out on patrol? Well, that’d just be a nice little bonus.

--- as calm as dean was in that moment he was still unsure exactly what was going to happen. he'd never seen jason like that before, the pit taking control of him. he knew they were balancing on the edge and things could end very badly. jason had told him that he never wanted him to even be around him like this and instead here he was staring him right in the eyes, hand on his arm. he could see why jason didn't want him to see this part of him but oddly enough he was glad he got the chance. he felt like he understood jason a little deeper in that moment.

as soon as jason lowered his weapon and took a step back dean followed after him. he stayed within jason's personal space, facing him, he was clearly more concerned with him than his dad. he knew that even though he managed this for him, pulling away, it wasn't over. if his dad didn't listen to the demands jason was making he might have to fight to get the gun out of his hand. it wasn't over until it was over.

it felt like forever until he heard his dad start to move. a few footsteps and then he paused. dean could feel his father's eyes staring at the back of his head but dean made no move to face him.

"dean..."

he knew that tone. it wasn't demanding, hell it wasn't forceful in any way at all, but he knew it meant this was important to his dad. dean squared his shoulders and he didn't give jason a chance to respond for him. "dad, don't. leave. i'll call you." he decided what was important now. he was done letting his dad dictate every move he made in his life.

there was a solid few more seconds and then dean heard those all too familiar footsteps stride out the door and shut behind them. almost as soon as the door latched into place dean's shoulders sagged, he swallowed and then smiled, the look unable to reach his eyes even if he forced it with all his will. his hands met jason's shoulders and then swept up and down his arms to ensure he had his attention. he wanted to make sure he didn't go anywhere until he calmed down. "it's okay. i'm okay." it was a blatant lie but he had more important things to worry about than how shaken up he was about his dad finding him right now.

"it's alright, jay. it's alright."

[normaltothemax]

Jason’s grip on the gun tightened, the Pit’s whispers almost deafening now, a cacophony of sound that urged him to end this, to make John pay for what he’d done. The certainty he felt that he was doing the right thing was cold, unyielding. A feeling of righteousness that was hard to ignore. But Dean’s voice cut through all of that. His calm, steady reassurance, the intensity of his gaze, that completely unafraid touch grounded Jason. All of it combined acted as a tether, pulling him back from the edge.

The gun didn’t waver, but slowly, Jason’s eyes shifted to meet Dean’s. That glowing green dimmed slightly, the anger in his gaze struggling to reconcile with Dean’s calm demeanor. There was a flicker of doubt, a moment where Jason’s resolve faltered.

Dean was saying he was okay. To put the gun down. And he was tough as nails—Jason knew that. He knew that Dean likely hadn’t actually been hurt by John’s actions (physically, at least). He knew deep, deep down that this was probably a tiny overreaction. And he knew that the Pit’s influence was powerful, knew it had a way of twisting things and making them even uglier than they already were, but this felt right.

If he did shoot him, the elder Winchester would have it coming.

…Right?

With a snarl, he lowered his weapon and took a step back, body still coiled tightly, clearly ready to strike at the slightest provocation. “Get the fuck out,” he snarled at John. Jason wasn’t putting his gun away, wasn’t setting it down while the man was still in their home, and his trigger finger was feeling awfully twitchy. If John was smart, he’d do as he was told.

“And don’t even think about coming back. Dean’s not your punching bag. He’s not your fucking soldier.” Jason knew a thing or two about all that, and he hated that Dean and he had shared experiences when it came to those two things. “Unless he wants to see you, you leave him the fuck alone.”

Jason’s gaze remained locked on John as he spoke, the threat in his tone clear and unwavering. “Leave. Now. Before I change my mind.” One wrong move from the man and he’d find a new hole in his body, whether Dean liked it or not. And then, just to rub his nose in it, Jason threw John’s words right back at him, lips twisting in an unpleasant smile.

“You’re done here.”

--- he knew it. he knew there was going to be consequences when he ignored his dad's texts. dean had even humored blocking his number but somehow he thought that might make it worse. for the past month he'd been getting increasingly agitated messages. hell, his dad even bothered to try and call him. it honestly pissed dean off. he could never get in touch when he needed his dad but he was expected to be available at a second's notice. maybe he should have tried ignoring him years ago.

then a knock came to their door. dean answered it and when he came face to face with his dad it felt like all the air got sucked out of his lungs.

he had no idea how, but his dad found him. he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. he was a hunter after all, and it figured he could hunt down his own son. it didn't mean that dean was happy about it. he didn't know what else to do so...he just let him in. the moment he crossed the threshold dean felt like he was going to be sick. jason was just sitting right there on the couch. he introduced them and it started almost instantly.

the questions about what he'd been doing. the remarks about where he'd been. everything about his choices. his "abandonment of the mission". he just kept piling on and on and on. dean took it. he took it all because that was just what he had been conditioned to do his whole life and...it was easier. it was easier if he just let it happen. he knew what happened if he fought back. he'd learned that lesson from a young age and even now, bigger, stronger and much tougher than john winchester could have ever hoped his son to be, dean still was that scared little boy.

until he wasn't.

"you're done here. pack your shit."

"...no. no i'm fucking not."

and that was when john made a mistake he wasn't soon going to forget.

jason still had his gun pressed up against his dad's head. dean could see the glowing color to those green eyes. he'd never seen him like this before but jason had warned him once about something like this. he remembered them talking about 'what if' he lost control. it was funny, he wasn't even really worried about his dad. he just was worried about how jason was going to feel when he came to his senses.

"it's okay. i'm okay, jay." he wasn't afraid. he knew the pit had done things to increase jason's strength and he figured that in his current state that was probably amplified, but he wasn't scared of jason at all. his dad was smart enough not to move. he had no idea what was going on but those glowing green eyes were something dean was sure he wasn't going to forget.

"put it down," he tried again but this time dean came up beside him and laid his hand on his arm. he stared right into jason's eyes. he wasn't backing down but he wasn't forcing either. every movement was slow and careful. dean was surprisingly calm. "look at me, jason. right here. i'm okay. so i need you put that down for me and then he's gonna leave, alright? can you do that for me?"