Black Raven Ch.2A pile of bodies lay in the dark around the forest area. They were nearly skeletons, flesh in pieces and the last of blood dripping out.
The black, menacing panther-like creature, bloody from the gunshots that Dean and Sam had shot into him over and over again, stood on two legs, breathing heavily. He snarled, daring the Winchester brothers to come any closer. Dean, frustrated, just shot the monster again. The panther fell, and when Sam and Dean lowered their guns, Dean asked, "Think its dead this time?"
In answer to his question, the panther's yellow eyes snapped open, and he growled.
"Umm no." Sam muttered. Realizing that they couldn't kill it with their current weapons, they did one thing that they did very rarely. They ran.
And right when the brothers got into the '67 Chevy Impala, a slick, black raven slid out from the panther's body, transforming itself into the bird. It flew off toward the car as Dean and Sam drove away.
After driving for about a half hour, Dean finally sai
Black Raven Ch.1Dean Winchester awoke to the sound of rushing water.
His brother, Sam, was in the shower.
He opened one groggy eye and glanced at the clock on the motel bedside table. It read 6:00 AM.
"Oh God why am I awake at all?" he grumbled.
Groaning, he turned himself over to his side, trying to drown out every single sound that dared disturb him.
He sighed in content against the softness of the motel bed. This motel was in better shape than they usually booked, since Sam had picked up more money than Dean expected when he was in Hell.
He was about to drift into sleep again when he felt a pillow hit his head.
"Get up, dude." Sam called to him.
Dean moaned. "Sam. We just finished a job. Sleeping late is my reward for saving a family from a poltergeist." he stated.
"You can sleep in the car." Sam suggested.
"And let you drive? Not a chance. Anyway, why are you talking about getting in the car so soon?" Dean asked.
"I just got a call from Bobby. There's been some brutal animal-like killings tha
Too Long of a Road Ch.1Sam knew that Dean was going to drive him crazy. Especially since their next case was in Florida and they were driving there from Maine. It had taken them ten hours to get to New Jersey (Sam just loved construction) and he knew it was going to take roughly sixteen more hours to get to Florida. As Sam attempted to stretch out in the passenger side seat of the car, he wondered how long it would take Dean to come up with his next inane question. Sam loved his brother, he really did, but playing "I Spy" through two hours of construction was not his favorite way to pass the time. Especially, when in those two hours, they managed to go about twenty miles.
"Hey, Sammy, do you think you could predict tomorrow's lottery numbers?"
Sam gave Dean a look that clearly read 'I don't feel like dignifying that with a response and how are we related again?'. Sam then checked his watch; it had taken Dean about twenty minutes to come up with his next question. That was a new record.
Dean laughed. "No, rea
Big BrotherDean can remember when Sam's face was free of lines. He remembers a time when Sam would only answer to Sammy. He remembers pushing his little brother on an old tire swing in the middle of a Kansas summer and kissing Sam's hurts away whenever he fell. Dean remembers Sam being his shadow for many years of their childhood, only stopping this act after Sam realized exactly how book smart he was compared to Dean. But even after that, Sam still trusted Dean when it came to all their training. In a way, Sam's idolization of his older brother just switched to a different medium. Really, the only thing normal about their childhood was the fact that the brothers were as thick as thieves some days and on other days trying to kill each other. The only difference was that they tried to kill each other with ten inch knives while normal kids just threw baseballs at each other's heads.
Dean can also remember finding the acceptance letter to Stanford, well hidden in Sam's dresser when Dean was searchin
The Light Left You You lay there, dying, and you told me, despite the state you were in,
What would happen, and that it would be okay.
You said that, but I didn't hear you. I still held you tightly, begged you to hold on,
To stay with me.
But you just smiled, blood dribbling out of your pale lips,
And mouthed the words, "Its gonna be okay "
I yelled and screamed at you, telling you not to give up.
You gasped, spilling blood, and you looked at me.
Really looked at me.
And for a second, you stared blankly into the sky,
Before your eyes fluttered shut, I saw.
I saw you die.
I saw the light leave your eyes.
Sammy's First Christmas Ch.1Dean Winchester jumped excitedly around the living room on December 24th, 1983. It was Christmas Eve, and they were about to enjoy there first Christmas dinner with little Sammy. When Dean finally settled down, he dropped to his knees next to the decorative tree, the presents smiling up at him.
"Daddy, do ya think Sammy will like his present?" he asked. He had insisted on making his own makeshift present for his little brother on his first Christmas, because that's what big brother's just do. Dean had made his own wreath using old puzzle pieces, then, painting it green, he'd put little red puffy balls on it. Then, after spending a good half hour looking, he'd found a small enough picture of him and little Sammy. In the picture, Dean had his arms wrapped around his baby brother protectively, and Sammy's small hand was on Dean's cheek, while Dean smiled at him.
Once he'd found this picture, Dean had ordered his mother sternly to glue it to it his wreath, 'cause, according to his parents,
The Hero Never Dies(Wee!chester) It's Sam's first day of kindergarten. What could possibly go wrong? Demons attacking the school? NAH!
Sam Winchester, 5 years old, skipped ahead of his older brother, Dean, chattering happily with his fantasies of kindergarten. "And then we'll color and draw all these awesome stuff, and then we'll go play on the playground, 'cause I heard its really big. Do ya think its really big, Dean?" He asked, looking up at his brother.
Dean, who was 9, and, of course, not very worried about school, just smiled at his little brother. "Yeah, Sammy, I'm sure its huge," he said, kicking at some brown leaves on the sidewalk on the way to school. It was a slightly chillier morning than an average September day, he noted absently.
Sam grinned widely and asked yet another question, "Do they really have milk and cookies?" he asked eagerly, his brown eyes full of childish hope.
If only he knew the dangers Dean thought.
"I'm positive they do. After all, I did say so, didn't I?"