With their combined strength, the heavy barrel teeters. Water sloshes over the side on Sam's arm and chest. Both groan with the strain, and eventually gravity pulls the barrel over, spilling a huge wave of water across the floor.
The water rushes over the charcoal runes with speed, washing away any distinctive markings.
The pressure in the room changes minutely, and a weight against their lungs they hadn't noticed before is released as the spell is destroyed.
Dean looks over a Sam smugly, breathing slightly elevated. “Score one for Team Free-Will, eh Sammy?”
Sam grins back, feeling considerably good over this small victory. It might not stop the apocalypse, but it'll slow it down. Hell, after their history, any victory is a party.
Sam turns his view back to the wet floor, but not before seeing a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. He turns back in time to see something coming at Dean's back at lightening speed.
“Dean!” Sam shouts in warning, as he grabs Dean's coat at his shoulder, and moves his body into Dean's.
Sam doesn't think about consequences, he pushes Dean out of the path of the incoming knife held by the demon charging. Dean, off balance, falls ungracefully to the concrete floor.
The demon lets out a scream of rage, and thrusts the blade into Sam's neck, only to then focus her black eyes up on Sam's face.
Strangely, he can feel knife scrape against his spine, shattered bits of bone dragging along the side of metal, and it's a horrible feeling. The blade travels into Sam's neck with enough force, that the tips comes out the other side.
The demon, wearing a punk teenage girl, no older than sixteen, eye's widen, and mouth opens in disbelief. Sam suspects the expression on his face is somewhat the same. Randomly, Sam thinks, yeah, Boss isn't going to be too happy with you, is he.
“Sam!” Dean cries distantly, somewhere off to his left, down on the floor.
Sam's legs seem to suddenly refuse to carry his weight. He realizes he's falling backwards slowly as his legs crumple beneath him.
The knife, still grasped tightly in the shocked demon's hand, slides out of Sam's neck, dripping red.
As Sam falls backwards, familiar arms capture his back, wrapping warm flesh around his stomach, pulling Sam's back to Dean's chest. Sam's head falls limply forward, so that his shocked, unblinking eyes, can look at the blood staining his plaid shirt and jeans.
There's this throb of pain with each beat of Sam's heart, followed by a thick gush of more blood spilling down his front. It doesn't hurt as much as it should, and Sam knows that probably means he's in trouble.
Dean pulls Sam's head back to look at the wound. Blood rushes out quickly, and Dean clamps his hand around the cut, hands slipping for grasp.
Sam catches sight of the demon girl, still standing in front of them with the knife, watching in terror. She suddenly throws her head back and spews out of the girls body, dark cloud streaming out a window in escape. The girl collapses to the floor, and Sam doubts she's alive.
Yeah, you better run. Boss is going to be pissed you hurt his vessel.
“Sam,” Dean chokes out. Sam's eyes roll back to catch sight of Dean's worried face hovering above him.
Sam tries to say something, but his throat makes a wet gurgling noise, and he feels his mouth fill with something wet and salty. Sam knows the taste of blood anywhere, especially demon tainted blood like his.
“Sam. Hey, Sam,” Dean says through gritted teeth. “You're going to be okay. Alright? You're going to be fine.”
Sam looks up into Dean's green eyes, obscured by the dim light. Something falls onto Sam's cheek, makes a wet line down to mix with the other wetness collecting around his neck and chest.
FILLED - Chased by the Devil 2/?
The water rushes over the charcoal runes with speed, washing away any distinctive markings.
The pressure in the room changes minutely, and a weight against their lungs they hadn't noticed before is released as the spell is destroyed.
Dean looks over a Sam smugly, breathing slightly elevated. “Score one for Team Free-Will, eh Sammy?”
Sam grins back, feeling considerably good over this small victory. It might not stop the apocalypse, but it'll slow it down. Hell, after their history, any victory is a party.
Sam turns his view back to the wet floor, but not before seeing a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. He turns back in time to see something coming at Dean's back at lightening speed.
“Dean!” Sam shouts in warning, as he grabs Dean's coat at his shoulder, and moves his body into Dean's.
Sam doesn't think about consequences, he pushes Dean out of the path of the incoming knife held by the demon charging. Dean, off balance, falls ungracefully to the concrete floor.
The demon lets out a scream of rage, and thrusts the blade into Sam's neck, only to then focus her black eyes up on Sam's face.
Strangely, he can feel knife scrape against his spine, shattered bits of bone dragging along the side of metal, and it's a horrible feeling. The blade travels into Sam's neck with enough force, that the tips comes out the other side.
The demon, wearing a punk teenage girl, no older than sixteen, eye's widen, and mouth opens in disbelief. Sam suspects the expression on his face is somewhat the same. Randomly, Sam thinks, yeah, Boss isn't going to be too happy with you, is he.
“Sam!” Dean cries distantly, somewhere off to his left, down on the floor.
Sam's legs seem to suddenly refuse to carry his weight. He realizes he's falling backwards slowly as his legs crumple beneath him.
The knife, still grasped tightly in the shocked demon's hand, slides out of Sam's neck, dripping red.
As Sam falls backwards, familiar arms capture his back, wrapping warm flesh around his stomach, pulling Sam's back to Dean's chest. Sam's head falls limply forward, so that his shocked, unblinking eyes, can look at the blood staining his plaid shirt and jeans.
There's this throb of pain with each beat of Sam's heart, followed by a thick gush of more blood spilling down his front. It doesn't hurt as much as it should, and Sam knows that probably means he's in trouble.
Dean pulls Sam's head back to look at the wound. Blood rushes out quickly, and Dean clamps his hand around the cut, hands slipping for grasp.
Sam catches sight of the demon girl, still standing in front of them with the knife, watching in terror. She suddenly throws her head back and spews out of the girls body, dark cloud streaming out a window in escape. The girl collapses to the floor, and Sam doubts she's alive.
Yeah, you better run. Boss is going to be pissed you hurt his vessel.
“Sam,” Dean chokes out. Sam's eyes roll back to catch sight of Dean's worried face hovering above him.
Sam tries to say something, but his throat makes a wet gurgling noise, and he feels his mouth fill with something wet and salty. Sam knows the taste of blood anywhere, especially demon tainted blood like his.
“Sam. Hey, Sam,” Dean says through gritted teeth. “You're going to be okay. Alright? You're going to be fine.”
Sam looks up into Dean's green eyes, obscured by the dim light. Something falls onto Sam's cheek, makes a wet line down to mix with the other wetness collecting around his neck and chest.