but what if season 8 ends in a burning building, and Sam has collapsed and the angels and the demons are coming and cas, bleeding out of his eyes ready to fight them all off
turns to dean and says
“Take your brother outside as fast as you can. Now Dean go!”
and Dean carries Sam out, just as he promised he would
huntercest asked you: sam kills benny OOPS
His back is broad and dark when Sam slips up behind him because he’s hunched over the ground, crouched over the corpse of a girl who had been in the wrong place in the wrong time and he’s so enthralled by her, her smell, her blood, that he doesn’t even hear Sam.
Sam wants to turn him around, get him on his back, break his teeth and a few of his own knuckles and watch him writhe with Sam’s blood on his lips before he really gets down to the good stuff, but Sam’s never really been that malicious.
It’s quick; a sharp blade sawing through major tendons and arteries like they’re butter and the son of a bitch has the audacity to call out for Dean with his last breath.
One hand clenched in the severed head’s hair, Sam can’t resist.
He draws the head up, whispers in ears that can’t hear, “He’s not your fucking brother.”
no but mary didn’t die in a fire john murdrered her right infront of dean and baby sammy and somehow it stuck with them both and they target young blonde women but it’s not sexual it’s about torturing the girl and bringing her to her breaking point and that’s their favorite part seeing the girl fall apart for them and beg for their forgiveness and beg them to stop and then finally they put a bullet in her or slit her throat and victor hendrickson is the profiler/fbi agent after them and they taunt him and leave dead girls for him and wow yeah
My Brother
monsters wear my brother’s face
too often
and sometimes i can’t tell them apart.
monsters tear my brother’s face
too often
and sometimes his heart won’t restart.
i want to declare my brother’s face
too often
as mine, mine, mine.
i see despair on my brother’s face
too often
and it’s becoming more than i can take.
Dealing in Absolutes
His fingers desperately tear at the earth- Sam’s still-fresh blood coating them mixes with the dirt. He throws the box down into the ground, further toward hell- where he knows he’s going- and buries it. It doesn’t matter. None of it does.
The crossroads was conveniently close to Cold Oak. It was completely empty, and a little too dark. The moonlight seemed obsolete- it couldn’t reach the land quite well enough.
He stumbles when he stands up too quickly and stars dance before his eyes. His boots kick the gravel and the sound seems to intrude the space. The crossroads eat the sound up, devour it- there’s barely an echo when he yells out to the sky.
He spins around, ignoring the fresh dose of vertigo and nausea- maybe he shouldn’t have drunk so much before he left. It was a wonder he didn’t get in a crash- he had wanted to, no doubt.
huntercest said: omg how are we evil
we are the spawns of satan. we murder little babies and drink their blood while having sex with our siblings.
