#i am just alternating between sobbing and rage and emptiness I’m so upset

[wrathfulrook]

Srsly whose dick do i have to suck to get into a phd program cuz at this point I’ll do anything

[tibbinswrites]

How about Dean/Cas #33. Canon or AU. All is good to me. 🙂

Hiii!!!! Thank you so much for your request! So this one has taken me so long and it’s not super on topic with the prompt. I had a plan but got very distracted and this happened instead. Hope you like it ^_^

I’ve now done prompts for: #1, #2, #4 and #16, #9, #10, #33, #77, #78, #170 and #502

I also have 2 prompts waiting for: #20 and an addition to #170 and after I’ve done these I will be closing prompts for a little while. Sorry! I’ve joined up for a Big Bang which I’m super excited about and I’ve never done before so I really need to turn my focus to that at the moment.

ANYWAY! On with the fic!

Prompt #33. Tomorrow

In this life there was never a guarantee that you would get anything more than what you had right now. There was also never a guarantee that you wouldn’t lose what little you had. This was a lesson that Dean had learned too many times to count. Could it be counted as loss if your hold on it was tenuous at best? What about a dream? A wish? A distant maybe? Those were never certain, he’d never had them, so why, when they were on the brink of vanishing forever, did it feel like grief?

Watching Cas leave had felt like that. The anger gloated in his gut while the rest of him mourned. He hated that the one constant in his life now was his rage. It hadn’t always been this way; back when hunting had been enough for him, before John had died. That was then the anger had really come into its own, he thought; solidified from all the disappointment and potential for closure that would now never come. He might have been able to say a final goodbye to his father the previous year, but there had been so much still left unsaid between them and Dean hadn’t decided if the John that had appeared had even been the John he knew, or just something conjured as part of the wish. Questioning the reality of things in Dean’s life was ‘in’ at the moment.

He was working on it, he was. In between Purgatory and worrying about Jack and looking for ways to kill God and meeting his alternate self he was working on self-improvement. He’d apologised to Cas and that had worked out. He was trying to joke with the guy more, make him laugh, or at least ease the worried crease between his eyes a little. It hadn’t worked so far.

But now, Jack was sobbing at the kitchen table, apologising over and over for every slight he’d ever made. He had his soul back. And Cas and Sam were gathered around him, forgiving him each time he mumbled a ‘sorry’. Dean went to fill a glass of water and placed it in front of the kid before stepping back. Sam rubbed Jack’s back soothingly while Cas kept up a stream of affirmations and comfort but Dean could only watch. He’d been working on his anger, but the wound of what had happened to Mary Winchester was still raw, tangled up in a bunch of other feelings like the mess that was their phone charger station. Dean wasn’t sure he’d forgiven Jack yet, but seeing how sorry he was… well… that helped.

Jack had looked up at him a few times, blue eyes wet and shiny with remorse as though he wanted Dean to say something. Dean knew that he should, he knew that he should swallow his pride, kneel down to eye-level and tell Jack that he still cared about him, that he was still family. But he knew that wasn’t what Jack wanted to hear and it would eat him up to mutter a forgiveness he didn’t feel, even if it might be the only thing that Jack really wanted to hear.

Cas sent him a couple of pointed glares, but he retreated instead, leaving Cas and Sam to calm the kid down. Sure, the first few hours of having his soul back would be messy, but once he adjusted to having feelings again he’d be okay, or at least as okay as the rest of them were. Besides, Sam was the one with first-hand experience of losing and re-gaining your soul, he was the best person to be in there right now. Dean just awkwardly standing around wouldn’t make any of them feel better.

Xxx

It was a few hours later that Cas came to find him.

“He’s still very upset,” he said by way of a greeting when he walked into the garage. His voice was hard, almost accusatory. Dean didn’t turn around. “We could have used you there.”

“I’m not exactly good at that whole… area of things, Cas. I’m sure you and Sam did a better job than I could have.”

“It’s you that Jack needs forgiveness from,” Cas fired back. “And more than forgiveness he needs reassurance that you don’t hate him. You disappearing doesn’t exactly alleviate that fear.”

“I don’t hate him.” Dean said, uncomfortable. He was working on Baby, nothing major, just inspecting every inch of her to make sure his and Sam’s alternate selves hadn’t done any damage. They hadn’t, but the work got his hands greasy and kept his mind calm and that was all he needed right now. Meeting himself from that other world had thrown him, probably more than it should. Thinking about it now, maybe sending them off to Brazil hadn’t been the best plan. They weren’t exactly done defying God, having a couple of decoys could come in handy, and if they were loaded enough to afford a private jet, two sets of pilots, top-shelf scotch and whatever the hell they’d been wearing they couldn’t be completely useless as hunters. The other John Winchester might have spoiled them (and if that thought didn’t just sit in his stomach like sour milk), but if he’d started HunterCorp and it had gone international, they had to have done a decent job of proving themselves, because he was pretty sure that any John Winchester in any world still had to be a ball-busting hard-ass when it came to hunting. Plus, they were still alive.

Then again, they couldn’t exactly stay here. If Chuck did come to check up on them then their usefulness as stand-ins was blown. Plus… it would just be weird. There had been a strange mix of relief and jealousy when they had talked about their life back on other-Earth, a bit of longing for that kind of ease and lightness that he knew he’d lost years ago, but then again, they had come through the rift alone, no Cas, no Jack, no family, and despite their toasts to their father, the grief there had been perfunctory at best. Their whole world was gone and they had barely seemed to care. So their lives might have been shinier and easier, but at least his life was full.

“Maybe you should tell him that.” Cas grumbled with all the heaviness of a parent who had been trying to comfort their child for the past several hours. Then, in a tone much sharper, “and I’m not an idiot.”

Dean turned. Cas was glaring at him, which Dean wasn’t exactly surprised at, but the glare contained something else too, a spark of real fury, not the watered-down version Cas more often than not used.

Dean folded his arms. “On this particular day, you were.” He insisted, folding his oil-streaked arms across his chest. “Going to the Empty, Cas? Really?”

“Oh, like going to Hell was a better plan.”

“Me and Sam didn’t have to die to get there!” Dean heard his voice get louder with each syllable.

“I didn’t—” Cas began.

“Almost is too damn close,” Dean interrupted. Dropping his arms where his hands balled into fists.

“Well my plan is the one that worked.” Cas said. Dean watched as his shoulders pulled back, Cas was gearing up for a big fight. Well fine, if this was the hill Cas wanted to die on, that was just fine with him, ’cause this time he was right, dammit. “You and Sam walked right into Jo’s trap while I got the location of the occultum.”

“You think this is about results?” Dean asked, his voice deadly quiet now. “You think I give a crap that it worked?”

Cas frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Dean let out a breath and dragged a hand through his hair. “You really are an idiot.”

“Stop calling me that!” Cas advanced on him, blue fire in his eyes. “I was the leader of a garrison of angels. That means I was the best. And I got there because I am an expert strategist. I understand how wars are fought and won. I saw the flaws in Jo’s story when you didn’t and I took steps to make sure that your mistake didn’t cost us the occultum and ultimately gave us a fighting chance in this war. I procured the thing that returned our son’s soul and still you call me stupid, you belittle me, you refuse to respect my choices. Why do you insist on trying to make me smaller than I am?”

“Why do you insist on trying to leave me every damn chance you get?!” Dean shouted back, though Cas’ words had hurt. Not least because they were true, or at least, they would certainly seem to be true, if you didn’t have access to the inner workings of Dean’s head. “Did your great intelligence factor in what would have happened to us if you hadn’t made it back, what would have happened to me? You keep doing this. You keep throwing yourself away as though you’re some kind of red-shirt. So yeah, you’re an idiot. Because you might be smart and you might be an expert in strategy and you might be the size of the goddamn Chrysler Building but one thing you’re not is disposable. And I don’t care that you were right. I don’t care that your plan worked. I don’t care that we got the occultum because of your hunch. All I care about is that you died today, and you seem to think that that’s an acceptable risk.”

“It is,” came Cas’ immediate response, though his tone and his eyes had softened a little during Dean’s tirade. “Dean, the world is at stake here. Of course I will give my life for it.”

“You don’t have to be so freaking eager.”

“I don’t have a part in Death’s plan,” Cas said, as argumentative and stubborn as ever, despite the bitterness in his words. “Just as I didn’t have a part in God’s plan. You, Sam and Jack are the ones who will get this done. But I will not just stand back and let you fight it for me. This is my fight too!”

“So fight,” Dean said, stepping forward so he and Cas were almost chest-to-chest. “Don’t give up. Don’t go diving headfirst into the Empty without a proper plan that we all agree on. It’s because Billie hasn’t factored you in that I am terrified, Cas. I can’t lose you again, I can’t do it. I barely made it through last time. Hell, technically it’s only because of Billie and her plan that I lived to see you again. But if she says that you don’t have a part, screw her. You’re with us. You’re with me. To the end of this thing and not a moment before.”

He was so close. Cas’ eyes mere inches from his own, his tongue darted out to wet his lips and Cas looked down to track the movement. And it was then that Dean knew, knew what he had been so scared to know all along: that feeling in his chest when he looked at Cas, the glow that drew him in, he knew in that moment that Cas felt it too. And it suddenly didn’t matter that they were fighting, it didn’t matter that Dean had all kinds of issues about his being into guys thing. It didn’t matter because Cas didn’t care, and Cas cared about the important stuff. So he leaned closer, his eyes slipping closed as he did so. Because tomorrow would bring with it more problems, more plans, more arguments; because Cas was brilliant, he was smart, he was resourceful, he would do what he thought was right whether Dean approved or not. He was fierce and so, so soft and he was right there.

He felt a hand on his chest and he blinked. Cas’ face was right next to his, something painful but determined in his expression.

“Not a moment before.” He whispered against Dean’s lips before he took a step back.

And if those words held an extra significance, Dean couldn’t fathom it, but they were an apology and a promise rolled into one, and they were more than Dean deserved at the best of times. He nodded an apology of his own and reached up to trace the line of Cas’ cheekbone. Cas leaned slightly into the touch.

“We’ll talk?” Dean asked. Because Cas was a sneaky bastard and he was hiding something, something that he wasn’t quite ready to say just now.”

Cas sighed heavily and nodded.

“Tomorrow.”

[im-hiding22]

Off With The Head Again, Just Take It Off - 5:21

(Alternative title: I’m So Sorry This Is Really Long I Press Enter Too Many Times And Try To Break Up Tension With Happies Also I Promise You There Will Be Delicious Juggy Action Soon I Really Do Just Lemme Do Some More Character Setups For A Sec And We’ll Be Ready To Die by Buggy)

(Thank you again to my good friend Atari for blessing me with their son, Clive)

“Alright, everyone done?” Gene stood and collected soup bowls happily. Everyone was sitting down in a little circle in the main room, some still with blankets on. It was a bit dark, with peeps of light streaming in through the cracks in between curtains.

“We’re good,” said Skuggy, holding out his plate. “Can...can you excuse me for a moment before we get ready?” Gene collected his bowl and nodded.

“Yes, feel free, but come back quickly, okay?” His voice was calm and reassuring. Skuggy looked back to Clive, who was still holding him. Clive let go and looked a bit surprised as Skuggy hopped off and promptly made his way down the hall. Clive held out his bowl, too.

“Thank you,” he said.

Rascal was leaning back in a big blanket, hands empty of a soup bowl. “That was good, Gene. I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Yeah, Gene!” cheered Farrow.

“Oh, shush you guys,” laughed Gene, blushing a bit as he carried the bowls to the sink. “I do enjoy cooking. It’s a bit like art, really.”

“I remember you used to invite Amne and I for dinner a lot,” Buggy chuckled. “It was basically all I lived off of back then, haha. Thank god I’ve finally learned how to make cereal without burning it.”

“Y...you can burn cereal?” Rascal looked at him with wide eyes.

“Yes.” Buggy made eye contact with him, dead serious.

“Nah, he’s lying,” said Farrow. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

“But...why?” Rascal was wide-eyed.

Clive listened onto the conversation, a bit concerned, actually. “My roommate burns noodles for fun,” he added, laughing a bit. “He runs from them every other day.”

“But...why?!” Rascal set his head in his hands.

“Hey, Rascal. Help me out with packing up the materials,” called Mendel.

“Oops, gotta go. Y’all have backpacks?” Rascal hopped off of the couch.

“I do!” Buggy raised his hand.

“Um...I have pockets?” Clive looked to him, shrugging.

“I didn’t bring shit. Sorry.” Farrow sat with his legs pulled up to his chest, scrolling his phone idly. “No signal here still? God, Samuel’s gonna be looking for me...”

“Uhhhh okay, I think...I think we might be able to fit some stuff in the backpacks, we might have to carry some rope, but that’s cool.” Rascal paced around anxiously. “Uhh, we got the stakes from the house, right?”

“I put them down by the bear traps,” said Farrow. “And a med kit, and a uh....”

“Ah! A hook? Okay, this might come to use. Climbing a tree? Grappling hook!” Rascal snapped his fingers.

“Here, since we’re going to the motel, I can empty out the backpack and put on some new clothes!” Buggy got up and hurried to Rascal. “I can leave the old stuff at the motel!”

“Okay, great,” Rascal said. “Clive, go get Skuggy, we might need some knives.”

“Oh my god I forgot to give Skuggy back his knife, he’s gonna behead me!” Buggy cried out.

“Alright, one sec!” Clive hopped up and hurried down the hall. The lights were off save for the bathroom light. Clive left a few knocks on the door. “Hey, Skug! We need you in the living room!”

“Huh?” A muffled voice sounded from the bathroom, sounding a bit light. “Uh, just tell them I’ll be out in a sec, I’m busy.”

“You good in there?” asked Clive, smooshing his face to the door. “Are you washing your hands?”

“Uh, yeah.” The sink turned on, and he could hear the sound of hands cupping under it, then coming out once again. A small splash. “Just go, Clive, I’m good.”

“...You sure?” Clive cocked an eyebrow and gently tapped the door handle. “If you need anything, I’m here, y’know.”

“I know, Clive. Go away,” he urged, a bit more serious now. The sink turned off. The sound of shuffling shoes. 

Clive blinked. He had never really been upset at him before. He felt a small sting in his chest. “...Skuggy?” He knocked again.

“What do you want?” Skuggy pulled the door open, and Clive stumbled in. Skuggy’s face was red, voice trembling slightly.

“...Were you crying?” Clive’s eyes suddenly widened, and he froze. Skuggy looked around and shut the door.

“Dude, shut up. I...like, I...” Skuggy covered his eyes with his hands, scowling in frustration. “I got a bit anxious, okay?! Just...just don’t tell anyone! I’m trying to fix i--”

“Who did it.” Clive clenched his fist and unclenched it repeatedly, face still but eyes burning with some sort of emotion Skuggy couldn’t identify at first glance.

“What? No, no, it isn’t what you think, I just...stop looking at me like that!” Skuggy’s hands trembled a bit. 

“Was it Farrow?”

“...” Skuggy looked to the side, voice caught in his throat. “...Well, y-yeah, b--”

“Hold this.” Clive held out his spatula.

“Wh..What? No, this i--”

“It’s okay, I’ve got your back. Hold my spatula.” He nudged it closer. Skuggy recognized the emotion in his eyes, and oh lord, if Death, the Horseman of the Apocalypse, could be a single emotion, it would be apt enough to be kept in this man’s eyes. He took the spatula without another word, and Clive immediately shoved open the door, kicking it with his foot as well. He stormed out, leaving a wake of pure rage in his path. 

Skuggy stood there in the bathroom, actually feeling a bit terrified. He peeked out the door, hands still a bit shaky. “Jesus Christ, what have I done,” he mumbled to himself.

Clive stepped into the living room bare-handed, expression grim. They didn’t notice--Buggy, Rascal, and Mendel were organizing supplies. Gene was washing dishes, and Farrow was constructing a few Molotovs, just in case. Clive stepped up behind him. 

“Farrow?” His voice was still characteristically light, but his face showed no lightness to it. Farrow turned, a bit bothered.

“Yeah, what do you want? I’m a bit busy.”

“You do know you’re a terrible person for hurting him, right?”

Farrow sighed and rolled his eyes, turning back to his work. “Ugh, shut up, kid. Don’t get your nose so deep in shit that isn’t your business, alright?” He topped it off with a cork stopper, nudging it in with care. “Hm...be a dear and get me a little candle, would you?”

Clive stood silently.

“...Did you hear me?” Farrow turned around. “I said get me a fucking ca--”

Clive socked him in the jaw, making him yell out in pain and fall backwards. He then leaped onto him and pulled out a knife from his coat pocket, holding Farrow down by the neck with his other arm.

“You’re the scum of the earth, you rotten little excuse of a man,” he spat. “Do you know that?” Everyone turned to look at the scene, Rascal screaming. Clive held the knife up to his throat and moved his hand a bit, measuring the force he’d need to use to puncture it. Farrow looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to shove him off. Clive lifted his knife and was about to bring it down.

“Clive! Holy shit!” Gene sprinted from the kitchen and pushed him back, grabbing Clive by the shoulders. Clive pulled away from him, yelling at Farrow and swinging around his knife. Buggy quickly ran to help out Gene, and Mendel followed. 

“CLIVE NO, WE HAVE A DEAL!” Buggy reached for Clive’s arm.

“If you two don’t stop fighting I’ll kick both of you out,” Mendel said calmly, merely standing aside and making sure nobody dies. 

Farrow kicked Clive in the chest and managed to scramble away as Gene and Buggy both managed to pry him off. 

“Get back here, you little shit!” Clive called out after him, Farrow quickly running behind Mendel and peeking out from over his shoulder. 

“Oh dear god, that guy just-- did you see that?! Mendel, he tried to fucking kill me!” Farrow looked at him with the look a girl would give to you after you spilled coffee on her new shirt. 

“Enough is enough!” Gene carried Clive off and set him back down. “Listen, Clive, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we have a deal here,” he explained quickly, holding him back from lunging back at Farrow. “As long as Farrow’s on our team, he can’t hurt us, and we can’t hurt him--”

“This dude broke the fucking deal! He-- he was right there! With a KNIFE!” Farrow yelled.

“And I would’ve beheaded you a second time too, you fucking nuisance!” Clive retorted. “You hurt my friend, you aren’t just going to get away with it!”

“Listen!” Gene shook him, frustrated. “If you don’t stop, we’re throwing you out, okay? You can’t hurt him, he can’t hurt us. Sure, he’s not a good person, but as long as he’s just helping the team complete their common goal, he’s fine! Leave him alone!”

"You dont even know what he DID to him!” Clive yelled, trying to squirm his way out. Gene held him tight.

“Listen, Clive, I do. And trust me, I wish I could do something to help but I--”

Skuggy peeked out from the hall. “...Are we all alive in here?” 

Everyone turned to face him. Clive stopped and gasped.

“Your friend tried to fucking kill me! Is this what you sent him to do, you little bastard?” Farrow snapped. “I swear to fucking god, once I get my hands on you--” Clive threw his knife at him, aiming for the head. Instead, it grazed his cheek and pinned itself into a wall. Farrow, speechless, simply put a hand to his cheek and screamed.

“Farrow, go make your bombs.” Mendel shoved him back to where he was. 

Skuggy quickly disappeared back into the hall.

Gene looked back to Clive. “You good? Are you okay now?”

Clive watched as Skuggy vanished away as the knife slammed into the wall, and snapped to his senses. “Oh. Oh gosh.” His lips quivered. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I really am--”

“I know, Clive. Just leave them be, I’ve got this under control.” Gene pat his back. “I mean, I’m a doctor of all trades, I’ve dealt with things like this all the time. You trust me, don’t you?” His voice returned to the usual calm and reassuring tone he had to him.

Clive held back a sob. “I’m so sorry. I really do! I do! But...” He choked back more sobs. “Oh god, I really screwed up, didn’t I?”

“It’s fine, really! Just...don’t pull something like that again. At least not under the deal, okay?” Gene pat his head. “It’s okay Clive, really. You’re okay. Everything’s fine. I understand why you’d protect your friend, but...keep in mind we are a team, yes?” He wiped his tears.

Clive nodded silently, sniffing. “I-Is everyone okay? Oh jeez...”

“Everyone is okay, Clive. Mendel! Go tend to Farrow, make sure he’s okay.” Mendel nodded and went to check up on him. “Everything is alright, Clive. I just need to know if you promise you won’t do that again.”

“I’ll try, I really will!” Clive insisted. “I’m so sorry, Gene...”

“No need to apologize, friend.” He pat him once more and set him down, standing up. “If you need anything else, I’ve got you. For now, is it okay if you help Rascal over there? He seems a bit distressed. I need to help your friend.” Clive looked over to Rascal, who was frantically organizing as if his life depended on it.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” He looked back to Gene. “T-Thanks, Gene...” Gene smiled and ruffled his hair. 

“I’m trusting you, Clive. I’m gonna deal with these two, you guys go finish packing. Oz is waiting, and you all know the sun isn’t gonna wait for us!” Gene led his own way through the room, disappearing into the darkness of the hall, leaving everyone a little bit more calm than they were before as he passed.

“...The fuck was that?” Farrow said, finally sitting back down to finish his Molotovs.

Rascal was holding back for a bit, but finally said something. “Farrow I think you just got your sorry ass beat.”

“He did,” agreed Mendel.

“Mendel, you’re supposed to be on my side!” Farrow gasped. Rascal laughed, Mendel only smirking.

“It is just a joke, Farrow.”

“Wait a minute. Who cares about whatever the hell happened, Mendel just made a joke.” Farrow’s head perked up. Clive gasped a bit, actually genuinely surprised.

Mendel stifled a little laugh. 

-

“Are you okay?” Gene reached out to Skuggy, who was sitting down in a corner of the hall.

“I’m good.”

“You sure? Most don’t sit alone in a hall if they’re happy and fine, y’know.” He sat down next to him.

Skuggy didn’t speak.

“Listen Skuggy, I know it’s hard. I promise I won’t force you to interact with Farrow at all, if you’d like. He really isn’t going to hurt you, I won’t let him.” Gene looked to him with kind eyes. “I promise, over my dead body he won’t set a hand on you.”

Skuggy shuffled a bit, tucking his chin in between his arms that lay on his knees. “I know we’re a hassle. I wish I weren’t such a fucking pussy.” He looked away.

“You aren’t, it’s understandable you have a...disliking to him. It’s like me and werewolves, isn’t it? Something terrible happens to us, directly caused by that person, and you can’t even stand being near them, thinking about them, much less having to interact with one.” He hovered a hand over his shoulder. “May I?”

Skuggy nodded. Gene placed his arm on his shoulder and squeezed him slightly. 

“But I’ll keep you two apart. He can’t do anything to you, he won’t even be able to say anything to you if you want me to ask him as well. It’s just that...it’s safer, to have two medics. What if my hands are full?” Gene looked down. “Other than that, I don’t see much use in keeping him around, if I were to be truly honest.” He looked back to Skuggy, who’s expression hadn’t changed. “...Does he still scare you? I won’t tell a soul.” 

Skuggy hesitated before gently nodding. “He’s gonna get all of us killed, Gene. I know he will. It’s just in him.”

“Skuggy, look at me.” He did so. “I won’t let him. Let me repeat--the day he hurts any of you is the day his life ends on this Earth, Understand?”

“He’s smart, Gene. He can act nice, but...” he trailed off.

“I won’t let him fool me. I can see past his lies.” Gene tilted his head. “I’ve been a doctor for many different people, Buggy. I have seen many different lies, many different masks, been told so many cover-ups and have been straight up back-stabbed by my own patients. Over the years, I’ve learned.” He nodded gently to Skuggy. “Trust me when I say, he isn’t very good at covering up his own lies.”

“Okay, but still, that won’t stop him from fucking killing me when we get home.” Skuggy laid his head in his arms. “I’ve said such dumb shit, I should’ve known better. I’m such a fucking dumbass.”

“You’ll be fine. If you want me to, I can go with you and walk you back home.”

“No, Gene, that’s a hassle, and don’t say it isn’t.”

“Helping someone else stay safe isn’t a hassle to me.” Gene ruffled his hair. “Come on, bug. I can talk to him, if you’d like me to--”

“Don’t,” Skuggy urged. “Thanks Gene, really, but...don’t tell him anything, please.”

“May I just ask him to leave you alone?”

“...Fine.”

Gene tapped his back. When Skuggy turned to look, he was holding out his arms for a hug. Skuggy felt a lump in his throat.

He crawled over to him and melted into his arms, Gene holding him close. “It’ll be okay, friend. It’ll all be alright. You’re safe.” Skuggy felt tears spilling onto Gene’s shoulder, but Gene just pat his back and nodded.

“It’s okay, my friend. Let it all out. We’ll try again with the packing up once we’re ready. But we must hurry. The Juggernaut isn’t very patient.”