She sunk into the couch in her apartment, staring at the phone, knowing that she should probably pick it up and call. She owed him that much. She knew that she could easily take care of this, pretend it never happened and Sam would never have to know, just in case he didn't save her. She had three months left, after all. She shouldn't go through ( Read more... )

Sam told Bela to stay in the car while he leaned against the hood, the disgusting dried hand wrapped in a cloth. Soon, Dean stormed out of the party, Gertie on his arm. Sam licked his lips, unable to keep from laughing at the look of anger on Dean's face ( Read more... )

The first thing Sam realized as his muddled brain fought his way out of the haze of alcohol was that he couldn't move his right arm. Well, he could move it, but it was held in place by a ring of cold metal that bit into his skin ( Read more... )

Crutches sucked ( Read more... )

It hadn't been all that hard to track down Sam and Dean once Dean had hit the hospital. Gunshot wounds weren't all that common in this town, and there weren't that many hospitals to check. It was also, after that, that she learned to tell the two apart. The one she had thought was Dean, the one who pinned her to the car was Sam ( Read more... )

Bela could have hired someone to do this job for her. She could have, but she didn't. She was starting to learn from her mistakes at this point, and it was all coming down to why hire someone to do a job when they would only botch it and force her to clean it up themselves. That wasn't the way she wanted to do business, so she wasn't going to ( Read more... )

It's raining in New York, and to some the pitter-patter of water on their umbrella is nothing more than some meteorological phenomenon for this time of the year. But to a select group, the rain is so much more than that. The rain is a public outpouring of grief, sorrow, and pain that those people would not allow the world to see.

In life, there ( Read more... )