“They’re onto us. I don’t know how, but the devil is onto us. Bobby’s wards will only hold so long against power like that, and unless you want to put him in unnecessary danger, the three of us need to leave, now.” Cas is remarkably flat and matter of fact about the entire thing, and Sam feels his heart beat quicken. The devil is coming for him now. Now, when he can hardly think straight. Now, when every fiber of his body is a knot of heat and cold, of stabbing pain and throbbing ache, when the world just won’t stop spinning… He doesn’t know if he can say “no” in this state. Not if he’s promised an end to it all. Not if he’s promised that Dean will be safe, and sound, and away from all of his stupid, stupid demon-blood addiction. Not if…
“Dean,” he tries to meet Dean’s eyes as he says it, but the angle is all wrong, and he can’t tell what emotions are being played out on his brother’s face.
“Tell me you didn’t lead them here,” Dean’s voice is cold, dripping with venom, and Sam is shocked to hear him taking that tone with Cas. It’s the one tone that Dean has never taken with him, not through all that he’s dragged them both through.
“Not me, no. Famine. The demons that he… Fed to Sam, they must have gone through specific Enochian rituals to be tracked by Lucifer. Their blood, the essence of them that Sam consumed – it’s what’s leading them here. Bobby is adding more wards and sigils even now, but those will only work for so long. At the present, Sam and everything that he’s purged from his system are like two halves of a beacon. We need to get him away from whatever it is that was done, and we need to keep moving until… The beacon stops glowing.” Castiel’s face takes on an odd look as he finishes his statement, that not quite confused, not quite exasperated expression that he wears whenever he’s told something irrefutably true that contradicts his wishes, or whenever he’s forced to utilize the trickier conventions of human speech. Metaphor-face, Sam decides to call it. Because humans-can’t-fly face just doesn’t have the same ring.
“Sam is leaking demon-bait?” Dean’s voice isn’t really outraged, so much as it is incredulous. More and more shit piled onto his back, and he’s beginning to feel the weight more than ever, Sam decides. He tries to follow the conversation that Dean and Castiel have as they make their way out of the house, not even stopping to say goodbye to Bobby, but it’s all that he can do to concentrate on walking out into the sunlight and into the Impala without keeling over. The light itself is intense, and it stabs at his eyes, making his headache bloom, sending shards of pain through his skull. Enough is enough, isn’t it? He almost laughs at that. The world never has enough for the Winchesters. Reality is a goddamn energizer bunny of pain for them. He does laugh at that, the thought racing through his mind as he feels Dean plunk him down in the passenger side of the car’s front bench seat.
“Care to let me in on the joke?” Dean’s voice is slipping away from him, sliding about like a fish in his bare hands, and he can’t quite grasp onto it. Still, Dean is the one that loves the stupid puns, mixed metaphors, and pop culture references. He should know about the bunny…
“Goddamn bunny with its goddamn drum,” is all that Sam can manage to get out as darkness swallows him up, and deep, dreamless sleep claims him.
FILLED: Nor Will I Imitate A Choo-Choo Train 3/10
“Dean,” he tries to meet Dean’s eyes as he says it, but the angle is all wrong, and he can’t tell what emotions are being played out on his brother’s face.
“Tell me you didn’t lead them here,” Dean’s voice is cold, dripping with venom, and Sam is shocked to hear him taking that tone with Cas. It’s the one tone that Dean has never taken with him, not through all that he’s dragged them both through.
“Not me, no. Famine. The demons that he… Fed to Sam, they must have gone through specific Enochian rituals to be tracked by Lucifer. Their blood, the essence of them that Sam consumed – it’s what’s leading them here. Bobby is adding more wards and sigils even now, but those will only work for so long. At the present, Sam and everything that he’s purged from his system are like two halves of a beacon. We need to get him away from whatever it is that was done, and we need to keep moving until… The beacon stops glowing.” Castiel’s face takes on an odd look as he finishes his statement, that not quite confused, not quite exasperated expression that he wears whenever he’s told something irrefutably true that contradicts his wishes, or whenever he’s forced to utilize the trickier conventions of human speech. Metaphor-face, Sam decides to call it. Because humans-can’t-fly face just doesn’t have the same ring.
“Sam is leaking demon-bait?” Dean’s voice isn’t really outraged, so much as it is incredulous. More and more shit piled onto his back, and he’s beginning to feel the weight more than ever, Sam decides. He tries to follow the conversation that Dean and Castiel have as they make their way out of the house, not even stopping to say goodbye to Bobby, but it’s all that he can do to concentrate on walking out into the sunlight and into the Impala without keeling over. The light itself is intense, and it stabs at his eyes, making his headache bloom, sending shards of pain through his skull. Enough is enough, isn’t it? He almost laughs at that. The world never has enough for the Winchesters. Reality is a goddamn energizer bunny of pain for them. He does laugh at that, the thought racing through his mind as he feels Dean plunk him down in the passenger side of the car’s front bench seat.
“Care to let me in on the joke?” Dean’s voice is slipping away from him, sliding about like a fish in his bare hands, and he can’t quite grasp onto it. Still, Dean is the one that loves the stupid puns, mixed metaphors, and pop culture references. He should know about the bunny…
“Goddamn bunny with its goddamn drum,” is all that Sam can manage to get out as darkness swallows him up, and deep, dreamless sleep claims him.