211: Playthings

[blacklid]

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Comments

Mnemosyne

[monicawoe]

The thing about sleep is - your defenses come down. You're at your most vulnerable physically and mentally. The body and mind both take this period of rest to heal. To try to heal

Re: Mnemosyne

[monicawoe]

Thanks! Yea my muse has been in overdrive the last few days ; )
This most recent episode is actually highly quotable. I'm working on the transcript for it , and then I saw your prompt and it just clicked.

I've got you.

[datenshiblue]

The thing about living out of duffel bags and backpacks, it's nearly impossible to notice the occasional unexplained lump. Said lump remained unremarked for weeks in Sam's things. Like the way his shoelaces were impregnated with vervain and hyssop. Like the way there was asafoetida in his shampoo. The St. John's Wort pills were a masterstroke, because Sam had taken them at one time, back in college, to smooth out anger and temperament issues. Finding them in his bag, he had started taking them again, without giving it much examination, not for anger but for the tendency to obsess over things he wasn't supposed to be thinking about. Like the past year. The things his soulless self had been doing while he'd been down in hell with Michael and Lucifer

Re: I've got you.

[datenshiblue]

*^__^*

Enough

[kettle_o_fish]

“Dean, stop it!”

Sam fought a futile fight against Dean’s skinny arm, clamped like a vice across his chest, holding him firmly in the V of his legs at the end of their bed in room 217 of the Flamingo Inn, Key West, Florida.

“Knock it off, Sammy.”

“Don’t call me Sammy.”

“What am I supposed to call you?”

“Samuel.”

“Samuel is a name for old bald guys.”

“Well Sammy’s a baby name.”

“You are a baby, baby

Re: Enough

[kettle_o_fish]

Thanks, darling!

I needed some precious-with-a-dash-of-angst Weechesters like whoa. They are pure love. <3

[doylescordy]

Dean: Dude, this is sweet! I never get to work jobs like this.

[doylescordy]

Sam: I can still taste the tequila.