Not sure why I'm in an introspective mood, other than the fact that I've been running on empty for a month now, and tiredness begets strange thoughts, and this rather simple and old debate was brought up, and though I have never believed there is an exclusive answer (meaning I don't think one has to negate the other), I put it forth here ( Read more... )

Sometimes I love California.  Sometimes, California blows.

:D

“I woke up at 4:35 still jet lagged from another plane ride.”
                                 -Southern Cross (Mason Jennings)

Mason, my friend, truer words were never sung…

He double checks that the Impala’s keys are still on the table when he crawls out of his cocoon, rifles through Dean’s bag and swallows down another couple pills.

He slowly stretches his neck, rolls his stiff shoulders, thumbs the curtain to the side and peers around the parking lot. Dean is nowhere in his sight.

Sam sighs, feels his own ( Read more... )

Summary:  They don't have time for headaches.  With having died and pending hell, headaches should be nothing.  Set sometime after Dean sells his soul for Sam. One shot.

Characters: Sam, Dean, echoes of John

Warnings: Spoilers abound

Disclaimer: no son mios, o sea, no estoy recibiendo plata por este cuento.

On to the fic!

~

Unbroken

~

Dean speaks ( Read more... )

( Read more... )