Date: 2013-05-01 04:23 am (UTC)
nextinline: (tasty)
From: [personal profile] nextinline
Stark doesn't quite have the energy to be grateful that Dean didn't argue with or question him; all he has is focused on not letting himself explode. Metaphorically speaking, of course: Stark doesn't explode himself, he explodes other things. So he just gives a tense nod and takes his liquor, snagging the duffel bag with his clothes on his way to one of the bedrooms of the suite.

Slamming the door with unnecessary but not quite breaking force behind himself, Stark drops the duffel bag and carves some protective runes against demons, angels, and Lurkers in general, into the door one-handed. He's not really tired enough, physically, to sleep, but knows from experience that the Aqua Regia will help with that. By the time he sets the bottle down to strip off his (miraculously not-yet-ruined) clothes, it's nearly half empty.

By the time the bottle is empty, Stark is sprawled amongst the satin sheets and has stopped picturing the varied ways in which Mason might have killed Alice, in favor of dreaming about her mostly-imagined reproaches. It never makes for the most restful night, as he also knows from experience, but he'll currently take what he can get.
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