When Dean opens his eyes again, he sees a dusty, worn wooden floor. That's his first hint that he isn't in Purgatory anymore. The second is that there's somebody muttering to himself close by. Somebody that doesn't sound like Castiel, but sounds a whole lot like his brother.
He props himself up on his elbow, surprised that his arm doesn't hurt more -- he's still bleeding from where the rugaru got a hold of his forearm earlier. He rubs his hand against his scratchy beard and looks again towards the hunched over figure sitting in the back corner of the room, "Sam?" The word comes out more of a rough wheeze, his voice still shredded from shouting himself hoarse trying to call for Castiel's help during the last werewolf pack showdown they'd had.
The angel hadn't been able to anchor himself to any one spot in Purgatory too well. He'd disappear from time to time, sometimes at the worst possible moments, only to show up again at some point, usually with no idea of how long he'd been gone
( ... )
"Yeah," Sam stands by the doorframe, backlit by the soft light from the other room. His silhouette looks larger than Dean remembers, like the demon blood nourished more than just Sam's powers. Either that or dragon hearts are really high in protein. "One at a time at first, then in small groups. It's easier that way. Otherwise I have to redo the Devil's Trap after every single one and that's just a pain in the ass."
"You need a Devil's Trap?" Dean asks, confused. He was sure holding demons in place had been a part of Sam's skill set.
"No, not really, but I didn't want to risk wasting power on anything other than getting you out. You have no idea how hard it was. How close I was to just --" Sam looks away then, his eyes absent again, listening to a voice only he can hear
( ... )
(part 1)
When Dean opens his eyes again, he sees a dusty, worn wooden floor. That's his first hint that he isn't in Purgatory anymore. The second is that there's somebody muttering to himself close by. Somebody that doesn't sound like Castiel, but sounds a whole lot like his brother.
He props himself up on his elbow, surprised that his arm doesn't hurt more -- he's still bleeding from where the rugaru got a hold of his forearm earlier. He rubs his hand against his scratchy beard and looks again towards the hunched over figure sitting in the back corner of the room, "Sam?" The word comes out more of a rough wheeze, his voice still shredded from shouting himself hoarse trying to call for Castiel's help during the last werewolf pack showdown they'd had.
The angel hadn't been able to anchor himself to any one spot in Purgatory too well. He'd disappear from time to time, sometimes at the worst possible moments, only to show up again at some point, usually with no idea of how long he'd been gone ( ... )
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(part 3)
"Yeah," Sam stands by the doorframe, backlit by the soft light from the other room. His silhouette looks larger than Dean remembers, like the demon blood nourished more than just Sam's powers. Either that or dragon hearts are really high in protein. "One at a time at first, then in small groups. It's easier that way. Otherwise I have to redo the Devil's Trap after every single one and that's just a pain in the ass."
"You need a Devil's Trap?" Dean asks, confused. He was sure holding demons in place had been a part of Sam's skill set.
"No, not really, but I didn't want to risk wasting power on anything other than getting you out. You have no idea how hard it was. How close I was to just --" Sam looks away then, his eyes absent again, listening to a voice only he can hear ( ... )
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There may very well be a sequel. This was such a great prompt!
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