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abraxas inbox;

{ ᴄᴀʟʟ | ᴛᴇxᴛ | ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ | ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ }

" Mᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴀɪʟ. "

So listen
I need to tell you something, but first, I need to know you're not gonna freak out about it

I don't "freak out", Dean. I express appropriate levels of concern, perhaps it's your lack of it that's out of balance.

What is it?

I got arrested

You what?

When? Why?

Damnit, Dean. I'm on my way.

No, no, no, see this is what I meant, this is you freaking out
Calm down
It's not that big of a deal, it's just like a two day thing and then I'm out

Jail is kind of a big deal. Have you told Sam? What quantity of 'deal' do you expect he'll take it as?

What are the charges?

Jesus Christ.
No, I haven't told him yet, but I will. I told you first because I knew you'd get all You about it.

Apparently I got in one too many fights inside city limits, and they're cracking down on disruptive behavior or something. It's a slap on the wrist. It's nothing.

If genuine and rational concern for your wellbeing is being "Me" about it, I suppose I did.

There are constant bar fights in this city, I don't see how yours are more significant.
Fine.
I'll be waiting outside. Let me know the moment something suspicious happens.

Don't wait outside
go home
get a massage
take a nap
teach the junior angel the Enochian alphabet or something
I'll see you in two days

Your preferences are noted and irrelevant. Inmates don't get votes.
I don't need a massage. Or a nap. I need you to be not incarcerated.
If you don't want me lingering, perhaps you should consider not getting arrested in the future.

Remember the good ol days when you used to go on those long rants about how you weren't my mother and you weren't here to perch on my shoulder or whatever?

I do. Those were good times.

Yes, the good ol days, when I aided in molding you into a tool for the apocalypse.

I too wish I still had a magical pocket-dimension room to lock you in for your own good, but as the sage Mick Jagger proclaimed: you can't always get what you want.