sixdollardropout:

  _{There’s nothing too interesting on the news, nothing that’d really catch the eye of a normal viewer. But as a trained hunter, it’s easy for Dean to pick up on the potential case material. In big bold letters, the banner on the bottom of the screen flashes the current news as a reporter’s speaking live from the scene of a murder. Pictures appear on the screen, which are the only things that really spark his interest. One in particular shows a nice shot of the suspect, and would you look at that— his eyes flash silver, just like a shifter’s would.}

              _{❝Looks like I just found our next case.❞}

    _{it’s times like these when sam is especially grateful for technology. without television and cameras and high-tech equipment, he thinks that hunting must’ve been a  n i g h t m a r e . it still is a nightmare, but it’s a hell of a lot easier than it used to be.} 

        _{a flash of silver catches sam’s attention, and he watches the program for a moment before turning to grin at dean.}

                  _{❝ i’ll start packing. ❞}

schonenherbst:

{❦} She’s been sitting at the bar for what feels like hours, though it’s probably only been about half an hour at the most. The glass she’s rolling between her hands in boredom is her first one after all, though it is almost time for a refill. It’s brought to her lips once more as she finishes it off, giving the bartender a smile as she taps her glass for a refill.

         This was probably one of the most boring bars she has ever had the misfortune of wandering into, but it had booze so she was content to sit and drink until she was numb enough to go home and face her father. Perhaps he would be sleeping already.

           The redhead was so lost in her thoughts that she barely even noticed that the seat beside her was occupied until he spoke to her. A smile tugged at her lips as she faced him, nodding in agreement.

       ”I was almost positive this place was closed before I walked in. But it looks like every place in town is just as deserted. Maybe it’s some sort of religious holiday I don’t know about? Or maybe this town is just really boring— no offense if you live here.” 

      _{so far, sam’s taking the general state of the bar with a grain of salt. sure, it’s a bit empty for what he’d consider normal, but maybe people just aren’t into the whole drinking thing here. he and dean have seen quite a big variety of places through their travels, and in some areas, the churches were more populated than the local pub. this town doesn’t seem like that kind of place, but he’s been wrong before.}

                    _{besides, the general quiet of the bar means he can talk with the pretty redhead next to him.} 

    _{❝ no, no, i’m just traveling through. i wonder why everything’s so  e m p t y … ❞}

          _{he chuckles, cocking his head to the side. hm. if everywhere in the town is deserted, then it’s probably something related to the case. but what would cause a whole town to just up and leave?}

                                                              _{❝ —- you know anyone who lives in town? ❞}

                _{sam sips at his beer, raising his eyebrows and waiting for her response. he hopes she’ll be able to give him something  —- anything. otherwise he’ll leave here with a stomach full of alcohol and an eyeful of a pretty girl and nothing to bring back to dean.}

scarred–sword:

             The emptiness that’s no stranger to Dean is vainly filled with the alcohol; for a few moments, the fuzziness and the warmth that the liquid gives him is enough. It’s enough for the loneliness, for the worthlessness, for the fact that he’s completely and utterly useless— and for a moment, he forgets about Sam entirely, only remembering that yes, his little brother is still alive and sound and within his grasp as footsteps interrupt the awful medley Dean had just begun to get a proper grasp on.

             He arches a brow, and sage hues follow his little brother’s gaze to the bag at his side. Dean chuckles, and tries to brush the fact that he’s completely inebriated aside; instead, he nurses his bottle with more ease, downing half of the alcohol in nearly one gulp. With satisfaction, he licks his lips, and after a moment, he shrugs.

                     The obvious answer is ‘too much,’ despite the fact Dean would argue with ‘not enough.’

                                     ❝Do you h-ave a problem, Sammy?❞

      _{it’s not that sam approves of dean getting stupid drunk, but he’s been there before, and christmas is as good a reason as any to empty a bottle or two. that being said, he’d rather not have to deal with dean’s  b i t c h  of a hangover tomorrow, so he eyes the empty bottles distastefully.  sam knows that when dean has his mind set on something, he won’t budge, and so he doesn’t even try to convince his brother to swap the beer out for a nice, cold glass of water.}

            _{instead, he rolls his eyes at dean’s slurred response and closes the distance between them, turning around so that he’s leaning against the impala’s polished trunk as well. sam is silent for a moment, looking out at the world before them. he’s sure every other average joe is sitting down with his family right about now, having a nice turkey or ham or lasagna and laughing over a glass of mulled wine. there was a time when sam would give anything to have that —- to be done with this hunting thing and to have a normal life. he knows better, now. hunting is in his blood —-  in dean’s too. and he wouldn’t trade their messed up excuse of a life for anything.}

    _{he turns his attention back to dean, gesturing with a tilt of his head to the cooler.}

                                            _{❝ pass me one? ❞}

scarred–sword:

             [ the loud humming is interrupted as dean pauses to take another sip of his beer. he’s leaning against the trunk of the impala, a cooler at his feet; a bag full of empty bottles resides next to the container, and the moment the bottle’s empty it’s tossed aside; long, bruised fingers take another bottle from the cooler and dean slides down to prop against the bumper, the humming picking back up before he fiddles with the cap. ]

                     ❝——baby it’s cold outside—-❞

             [ don’t ask him why he’s singing christmas tunes; it just feels appropriate. he’s a bit bitter about spending the day alone. ]

                _{there’s an inkling of  g u i l t  that trickles down into sam’s stomach when he thinks about dean, alone in the middle of what should be the most joyous time of the year. christmas is about family and faith, but sam has left dean by himself with his demons and his memories. he manages to work through the coldness in his stomach for a good part of the day, using the time to let cool winds clear his head. hours pass, and sam only feels his uneasiness grow, until he finds he’s doing himself more harm than good and retraces his path back to dean.}

      _{the off-tune melody is the first thing to assault his senses.  singing? really? granted, the song choice is decent as far as christmas tunes go, but what the hell? sam chuckles and catches sight of the bag of beer bottles, raising his eyebrows incredulously.}

                                                        _{❝ dude. how much have you had to drink? ❞}

_{xmas–killer:}

❝ Judgin’ by the way she— yeah, yeah she was. ❞

     _{[ sam grins and shakes his head, trying to stifle the chuckles that rise in his throat. he fails, and  l a u g h t e r  bubbles up from someplace deep in his stomach. ]}

thexrighteousxman:

_{It had broken his heart when Sam had walked out of that motel room. Destroyed him. He’d picked a demon over his brother, and released Lucifer. 
But he was his brother. And no matter how much it hurt, or how angry Dean was with Sam, he wasn’t going to abandon him. He just couldn’t do that to him.}

_{But they had to stop the world ending. That was their job.
But even they deserved a night off once in a while. And that’s what they were doing now. A night off. Away from the apocalypse, away from angels and demons.}

              _{Just them.}

                                 _{”Yeah, it is. It’s nice.”}

_{For once, the silence is nice. Any other time, silence wouldn’t have been nice at all.
Reaching behind him, he grabbed too beers from the cooler, handing one over to Sam before opening his own. Taking a drink, he stared down at the grass, black in the moonlight, before over at his brother.
                                  “It’s gonna be okay, Sam.”}

     _{never in his life has sam felt so much regret. it’s there in the mornings, when dean’s quiet and sleepy and sam’s all alone in the room. it’s there at mid-day, when the sun casts a tall shadow behind the impala that moves and shimmers as they forge their way across borders and states. it’s there at night, when everything is quiet and their only company is the glowing screen of a motel tv and a cold beer.} 

                 _{and the thing is, sam still  c r a v e s  it. his blood aches for the power, the euphoria. the control. he hates that no matter how much he hurts dean, no matter how much he wishes none of this had ever happened, he still wants it so bad his hands shake and his mouth goes dry.}

      _{but sam trusts dean. sam knows dean won’t let him fail again.  sam knows he won’t let himself betray dean again. so he holds on with sweaty fingers, praying for guidance and hoping for salvation.}

         _{he smiles now, soft and secretive and f o r l o r n . he feels lost. ever since he was a child, he was the freak, the odd one out. and now is no different.}

                                                                            _{❝ no, it’s really not. but thank you. ❞}

   _{sammy meets his brother’s gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching up almost against his will  —- an actual, genuine smile. because he knows whatever there is in store, dean will be there to face it with him.}

      _{sam can’t remember the last time he’s been on a case. for months, now, they’ve been tracking the devil and trying to figure out how to shove that bastard back where he came from. it’s nice to slow down and take an actual case, no matter how much he feels like he’s  w a s t i n g  time. still, if they can’t kill lucifer, they might as well kill as many evil sons of bitches as they can.}

                 _{so far, they don’t really have any leads. as a result, they’ve taken to what they know best —- scoping out a bar. it’s late, and there aren’t very many people here, but they fall easily into their usual routine; dean scopes out the chicks and sam does the work.} 

     _{it’s not like they’re under a lot of pressure here, and no one’s in dire need of help, so sam doesn’t feel  t o o  guilty when the first person he decides to talk to is an attractive young girl sitting at the bar. he slides onto the stool beside her and orders a beer.}

                           _{❝ —- kinda quiet for a saturday, isn’t it?  ❞}

                                        _{he turns to the girl in his stool, face morphing into a kind smile.}

       _{it’s not often that they get free time. with the apocalypse raging, they’re always going somewhere, fighting something. and sam doesn’t mind, he really doesn’t, because he broke the bars and now it’s his job to weld them back together. but there are times when, staring out of the impala’s passenger window, he thinks he can see what they used to be. when he and dean used to  l a u g h , when he’d be woken up by the cold plastic of a spoon on his nose. he can see back to the time when all they hunted were vampires and shifters and lost spirits, not horsemen and devils and angels and themselves.}

                _{so it’s nice, sam thinks, to be able to sit here on the cool grass, back against his big brother’s car, and just look up at the stars. he doesn’t know where he’s going or how they’re going to get there, but under the dark velvet night he can almost pretend that things are going to be  o k a y .}

                                                                                   _{❝ —- quiet, isn’t it? ❞}

       _{sam chances a glance at dean from the side of his eye. he knows his brother can never truly forgive him; like lucifer, sam had  f o r s a k e n  his family, and that’s a sin he can never cleanse from his flesh. but he wants to, god does he want, and he knows that as long as he and dean are together, he can never really stop trying.}

thesouthernsun:

        _{There was something about the man that piqued her mere curiosity. He seemed almost frustrated to move on from her and from the way in which he stood in a tensed position; she knew that something other than security was occurring in the building. The clothes that he wore, the interesting corridor that she could hardly see at that moment; it all led her to believe that she had been brought there for a reason.}  

                        _{❝ It is possible that I am back in my own world…}

                                             _{…say, is this London, by any chance? 1941? ❞}

     _{great. just great. not only is this girl in the path of a supremely pissed off spirit, but she’s from 1941. sam chuckles mirthlessly, scratching at his neck. now what is he supposed to do? she’s obviously not a ghost, and the only thing he knows that can time travel is an  a n g e l . maybe one had stuffed her here?} 

                                 _{❝ —- uh, actually, it’s 2010. and we’re in illinois. ❞}

           _{he casts a quick look around, shotgun still held at the ready. the only thing that could make this worse is… well, sam can think of a lot of things that’d make this worse, but he’s not too interested in the spirit coming back and catching him off guard.}

                  _{❝ —- wait, your own  w o r l d ? ❞}

sixdollardropout:

      _{Dean’s just watching TV, channel surfing mostly because so far nothing good is on. But then something catches his eye and he sits up, eyes locking on the screen. It’s been pretty rainy outside so he hasn’t gone out of the motel to grab a newspaper, thankfully the headline was also being broadcasted on the News Channel as well at this exact moment.}       

                     _{❝Hey Sammy, you might wanna see this.❞}

     _{sam never particularly likes when it’s raining.  sure, it can be beautiful, but it generally means he and dean are trapped in a motel room or in the impala when they should be working a case.  today, it’s a motel room. attempting to make the best of it, he’s sat at the table with the laptop, looking for something,  a n y t h i n g . but it’s slow work, as much as he does like research, and so dean’s call falls quite favorably on his ears.}

                          _{❝ what is it? ❞}