May 02, 2008 16:05
June 17 - Solace
Sam’s hands shake on the stock of the shotgun as he stares across the salt line and into the spirit’s vivid green eyes.
He’s seen this thing, he knows what it is, and what it’s not. He knows what it does, how it haunts people who have lost.
He knows it’s not really Dean.
His finger tightens on the trigger, and he grits his teeth. The spirit says nothing. It just looks at him, face open and sorrowful, and smiles a slight smile, nodding acceptance.
Sam lowers the gun. It’s not Dean. But he can’t.
He sweeps the salt away.
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