Dean
Dean tilted his head, as if to say ‘touche’ when Esme explained that basically a lot of hunters were the bolting type. She would know just as well as anyone how to handle someone with a hair trigger. He just worried, because of how easy it was to get attached to Duke, and to worry about him for months. He always seemed to limp back home, mostly in one piece, but Dean didn’t worry about him any less, every time he left.
He turned fully in his chair as she stopped again and was once again tempted to stand up, kiss her, pull her back in and try to convince her to just lay around all day. He had expected her to want to. But she was asking him to relax…and to possibly relax with her, something he couldn’t refuse if he tried.
“I’ll be out in a bit. I just gotta check on Bobby in the garage.” He replied to her, making sure that his smile conveyed that he wasn’t upset or irritable at all. He just wanted to hold her close for a while before she ran off. He closed his newspaper and stood from his chair, taking his dishes to the sink, before hearing her call from the living room. He smiled with a chuckle, “If Bobby doesn’t sucker me under a hood, I won’t. Take it easy out there, you hear me?”
Duke
Duke had reset all of the cans, pans and mannequins that he could find the pieces to by the time he heard the front door open. He tilted his cowboy had back a bit, and glanced toward the door, watching Esme closely as she took the steps. The last thing he wanted to be responsible for was her hurting herself worse, especially when Dean seemingly didn’t throw too big of a fit toward her hanging out with Duke.
“Well hey there sweet pea!” Duke called out to her as she approached him. He could tell that she was completely winded, and probably a little worse off than she would ever admit to the boys. He stepped away from the last of the mannequins, and walked over to his bag, grabbing his pretty silver .45 pistol that Bobby had given him for his birthday. Bobby said it was from some sort of card wheeling and dealing. Either way, Duke was obsessed with the gun. He pulled the magazine and checked to make sure he had fully reloaded it, right as Esme spoke up. A bright smile appeared on his face, “I figured you would have to tie him to the chair to get him to let you come outside. Either he’s feelin’ sweet today, or he’s needin’ his precious alone time and had to decide which was more important…hoverin’ and being weird or takin’ some time to himself like a princess.”
As he joked with her, he nearly winced at how mean he sounded. But Dean was like his brother. There wasn’t much they held back from one another, and seeing Dean super possessive and worried was a new one. He wasn’t even that way with his ex…the ‘big one’, as Duke called her.
Esme’s next question took him off guard and although he kept the smile on his face, he looked up across the yard, contemplating things for a moment as he squinted in the sun. He really did just want to spend some time with her, get to know her, and smooth things over, but she had been so open with him, he almost felt obligated to be the same with her. He glanced down at the gun in his hands, and pulled his slide, loading a bullet into the chamber, with a soft shrug.
“I’ll be honest. I mostly just wanna get to know you, I guess. I don’t see no harm in makin’ a new friend while I’m around.” Duke stared with another shrug, and then he thought about it for a moment and sighed, “And since Dean decided to bring up my back in the kitchen, I might as well trauma dump that while we shoot. You are my shrink, after all, and you’d be one of three people who I’ve ever talked to about it. Sore subject and all…”
Duke laughed awkwardly, and then chewed at his lip and pointed his gun at one of the mannequins, specifically aiming at its heart before shooting. He hit what he was aiming at with a deep breath, “I’ve been with Bobby since I was seven. Werewolves. They um…they killed my parents…”
He paused, aiming for another of the targets, double tapping it like it was second nature. But his hand was a bit shakier and he lowered the gun, offering the targets to her as he continued the simple but not so simple story.
“…and apparently they used me as a fun toy for a few hours. I don’t remember much, other than the look on Bobby and Rufus’ face when they figured out I was alive.”