YO DUDES AND DUDETTES.
This has been a long time coming, in fact...months. HAHAHA
They've taken Supernatural off in Australia for some reason...I dunno why but it makes me angry.
Any ways...if you don't like...don't read. If you do, then read on. Sam and Dean antics. HAHAHA
Sorri, its almost christmas and although I am old enough to be over it...I'm NOT. I'm getting heaps of stuff this year!!! Awesome!!!
Any ways...back to Sam and Dean.
The rain fell, thunder crashed in a threatening manner almost as if the world was ending. Through it walked two figures.
Sam Winchester and his older brother Dean Winchester.
Both walked through the mud with a steady precision, eyes locked ahead of them. To a bystander they resembled soldiers marching towards the enemy.
But to a person familiar with Sam and Dean; they were worried, tension sparking the air around them.
Sam suddenly broke the monotonous movement and raised a hand.
Dean looked over at his little brother as he pushed the soaking hair from his eyes.
"Need a hair cut much?" Dean snickered.
Sam shot him a venomous look.
"Need a punch in the face much?" Sam asked.
Dean laughed and shook his head, staring out at the vast black expanse beyond them.
"Should be getting close to the river" he said softly.
"Perfect" Sam whispered sarcastically as he pushed his hair away again.
For the first time in a long time it had become annoying, the sliding feeling over his cold wet skin. The way it plastered to his forehead, the way it clung to his skull, the way it hung in front of his eyes like a wet curtain that obscured everything.
It was maddening.
Dean didn't have that problem. His short spikes had flattened against his skull, but it didn't obstruct his vision at all.
For once, he envied Dean's hair.
But all conscious thought stopped and Sam froze when he heard a roaring in the distance.
"Dean" he breathed.
"It's just the river Sammy. Must have swollen with the rain" Dean said
But Sam felt uneasy, he knew their prey was around, was close and he had an awful feeling that they weren't ready.
Dean continued his slowed march across the sodden farm land that was long since abandoned by any human inhabitant.
Sam reluctantly forced himself into stride with his older brother, yet he was tenser than before, more on edge. He could sense his elder brother's wariness as his jade green eyes swept the flat landscape ahead of him.
Dean however came to an abrupt halt and thrust his arms out across Sam's chest to stop him. Ignoring the contact, Sam peered ahead of him into the inky darkness.
"What is it?" he hissed.
Dean didn't say a word, he just shushed him and pointed towards the edge of the barely visible river.
Sam's eyes picked up the massive shadow that stood on the bank. Squinting to get a better look, Sam could make out their quarry.
The massive shadow stood in the form of a hound from hell. Dean had ingeniously called it a Hell Hound after he discovered that he could not pronounce the Latin name.
The hell hound was bent over the side of the river, it's jaws in the rushing waters as it drank.
An interesting position to find a blood-thirsty killer in.
Dean looked up at Sam, breaking his thoughts.
Sam looked down to discover that stupid grin on Dean's face, it usually signalled the arrival of an insane idea. No doubt a crack pot scheme that involved copious amounts of risk with a human presence.
'Oh god….what's he up to?' Sam thought as he turned his body to face Dean.
"Bait" Dean whispered, barely heard above the roaring winds, the splitting thunder and the lashing rains.
Sam's suspicions were proven correct as he realized that Dean was signing himself up to be live bait. He would lead it to Sam, where the youngest would promptly shove a grenade down it's gullet to kill it.
"No!" Sam hissed, shaking his head for emphasis.
Dean's smile dropped, sensing more than Sam's negativity but also his concern that if this plan didn't work; both Winchesters wouldn't walk away. One would; if lucky. And luck seemed to despise the Winchesters, forsook them every chance it got.
Lady luck must have been a victim of one of Dean's one night stands.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned; and boy….had Dean scorned a lot of women.
Soon as Sam saw the pity in Dean's eyes, he cursed his tacit connection with his brother for the first time.
"Sammy, I'll be alright. I can run fast and I trust you completely. Not only that, I trust you know that I'll haunt your ass if you miss" Dean said, trying to lighten the heavy mood.
But Sam's expression did not change. Nor did he feel any easier about the 'plan'. It made him feel worse if possible.
"Dean….I'm faster than you….let me be the bait" Sam said, pleading with his sibling to trust him.
But Dean's face darkened and he his filled with worry.
"That would be a no…Sam. You know as well as I do what happened last time you were bait." Dean said, seriousness giving his voice a strange quality.
Of course Sam remembered, how could he not. He'd spent a month in a coma and another after that recovering.
It had been a job involving vampires and Sam had been the bait. The resulting comatose had come about as Dean had miscalculated the number of vampires in the barn and Sam had been over run and beaten to within an inch of his life before Dean had gotten to him.
Dean had felt completely responsible for the whole thing and had come close the madness during those two months. No matter what Sam had said, Dean still harboured guilt and self blame about it.
Looking at Dean then; he still had those feelings and now was more than ever reluctant to let Sam face life threatening danger as bait.
"I can't go through it again Sam. I won't" Dean whispered putting a hand on his brother's arm and squeezing.
Although Sam knew this, he was adamant about keeping Dean away from the creature.
"I know and you won't Dean. I promise, but you have to let me do this. Your aim is better than mine and I am a faster runner. Both good reasons for me to be the bait." Sam said.
Dean stared at his little brother, a frown marring his young features. He was still more than reluctant, his big brother instincts screaming for him to deny Sam, yet his hunting instincts accepting Sam's logic, knowing that the kid was right.
"We don't have time to wait. We have to kill it, before anymore people die Dean" Sam insisted, trying to tip the scales in his favour.
Finally Dean relented and his shoulders slumped, his head sank and his hand slipped from Sam's arms.
"Alright…." He breathed.
Feeling a miniscule amount of relief and a lot more apprehension, Sam gave the eldest Winchester a small smile.
"It won't be like last time" he re-assured.
Dean raised his head and glanced balefully at his brother.
"Better not be. Cause I'll put you back in a come when you wake up." Dean said, using his usual jokes as a way of conveying the hidden message.
'I can't do it again Sammy. I can't risk loosing you like that'
Sam nodded a small nod and then glanced at the massive dog, still drinking from the river, almost peacefully. But it didn't take much more than a thought to remind him of the sharp teeth and the razor like claws.
Grimacing slightly, Sam turned back to Dean.
"Don't miss" he said.
Dean rolled his eyes.
"And let that thing hog all the fun. Ye-eah right. Don't sweat it Sammy. I got ya covered. You do your job and I'll do mine" Dean said.
Watching his younger brother creep through the mud towards the Hell Hound was not the original idea.
Dean cursed his hunting instincts for the millionth time. He cursed the fact that Sam always had to be so level headed and so….right.
For once couldn't he close his trap and go along with Dean's idea.
He shifted in his crouched position again, trying to work out the knots in his stomach that made him feel violently ill.
Dean was used to seeing Sammy put into mortal danger because of this job, but it didn't make things easier.
Dean himself; was crouched down low against the only tree in the field.
If you could call a dead skeleton of a tree an actual tree and if you could call the mud slathered, vast swampy expanse a field.
Slowly, wearily Dean closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Wishing that his father was here, wishing that he was where Sammy was, wishing that it would stop raining.
But wishing wasn't one of Dean's talents.
It was one of his downfalls.
"Come on Sammy. Hurry up already, you're giving me the creeps taking so long" Dean groaned, wrapping his numb fingers further around the grenade in his hand.
Sam took another step forwards, he was now 20 feet from the Hell Hound and it still hadn't moved. Dean was 600 feet from Sam, too far for his liking, but Sam had insisted and no matter how hard he may try; denying Sam was impossible.
So he remained where he was, fingering the grenade like it was his last life line while he watched warily over his younger brother, barely making a noise or movement for fear that he would disturb the Hell Hound.
Dean's gaze suddenly shifted, a tingle of foresense ran up and down his spine as he turned to look.
A shadow was moving. A large shadow, darker than the night was stalking towards a blissfully unaware Sam.
A cold realization overcame Dean as he watched the shadow inch forwards. It had been staring them in the face since the start, the large amount of people killed, the double sets of tracks, the relaxed nature of the Hell Hound by the river.
There was a second Demonic Dog, and it was about to maul his little brother. Dean's body moved faster than his mind. He was already in full flight towards his little sibling before he thought to scream out.
"SAM" he yelled.
Sam looked up, just as the Hell Hound raised its head.
Red eyes pierced the darkness as they found Sam, followed by a deep throaty growl of anger.
Dean had covered almost 100 feet in 10 seconds, but there was no way in Hell he'd get to Sam.
In the meantime, Sam had started running to Dean, the river Hell Hound chasing him, snarling, on his heels.
"SAM" Dean's voice rose above all the other noises and shattered Sam's concentration. Sam's advance stopped as he turned to look at his older brother.
Dean was sprinting across the field towards him, covering ground like a man on fire.
Almost as if his life depended on speed.
The thought barely occurred to Sam before he heard the rumble behind him.
That perhaps Dean wasn't running for his own life, but running for Sam's.
Upon turning around, Sam understood completely the seriousness of the situation.
He found himself staring up into a pair of crimson eyes, soulless and merciless. For the first time, he actually saw the Hell Hound.
It occurred to Sam that it was his first sighting and most probably his last. There was no pictures of Hell Hounds, and there was a damn good reason.
Instincts took over and Sam backed away.
But he mentally took the image of the Hell Hound and kept it in his mind.
It was 15 feet long, with a whip like tail that swished through the air behind it like a cat-o-nine tails. Cruel horns spouted from it's skull and twisted back over towards it's neck. Crimson eyes were deeply set within its midnight black fur, like rubies studded in black velvet. It's lips were twisted back over it's elongated snout, revealing rows of sharp white teeth. It's body was covered by bones, its back was sporting ridges of white every few inches. It's paws ended in razor sharp claws that dug into the mud where it stood.
It was about to pounce.
Sam took off running towards Dean, perhaps some of this job could be saved.
Sure enough, the hot rancid breath was soon bearing down upon him as the Hell Hound gave chase. The thought of being locked into those jaws spurred Sam on, forcing his legs to move faster, carry him away from the danger. Another release of adrenaline and another burst of speed, each second moving closer to the safety that was his older brother armed with a hand grenade.
As he neared his brother, he wondered why Dean had called out in the first place, why had he blown Sam's cover to begin with?
Being the smart kid that he was, Sam began to work out the possibilities.
Dean didn't usually get cold feet and even if he did, he would have found a better way than screaming out and warning the Hell Hound that Sam was there. Dean only got edgy enough to scream out when Sam himself was in danger.
But what from?
Dean let out another sudden scream and just before Sam realized their fault, the second Hell Hound ploughed into him and Sam knew nothing more than a second of agonizing pain, then a blissful release into darkness.
"SAMMY!!" Dean roared as the second Hell Hound took the final leap, then it's massive black body connected with Sam's smaller, leaner human frame and was torn from the ground.
Dean changed his direction, chasing the Hell Hound that had Sam. The Hell Hound had smashed into Sam, knocking him over twenty feet away. Dean saw him hit the muddy ground with a thud, a tangle of long limbs and a whip like tail.
The Hell Hound jumped up from Sam's now still body, turned and prepared for a second run. The second attack would surely kill Sam, even though he was slowly getting to his hands a knees, there was no way he could possibly move in time to avoid further injury.
So Dean did the only thing he could possibly do, he pulled the pin from the grenade and pitched it.
The Hound opened its jaws, just about to swoop down on Sam, it swallowed the well thrown grenade.
Sensing something was amiss, the Hound froze, Ieaving Dean just enough time to hurl himself on top of Sam and cover him from the explosion. He ducked his head and squeezed his eyes shut, just as the grenade went off.
There was a small boom, then a millisecond later, the Hell Hound's head and upper torso smashed outwards with the force of the explosion, the final resonating boom sounded and Dean began to feel the blood raining down.
He stole a glance at where the demonic dog had stood, to see nothing more than a pair of hind legs and tail laying in the mud, with an ever growing crimson pool surrounding it. Dean smiled at the devastation, but was drawn from the gory picture by a low moan from beneath him.
Dean rolled off Sam was quick as he could, the turned to inspect the damage done by the twenty foot flight.
His little brother's eyes were closed and there was a trickling river of blood winding its way down the side of his face from somewhere unseen. His shoulder looked dislocated, other than that, Dean couldn't see anything. He was laying in an awkward position, so gently, Dean untwisted his baby brother's body so he was laying flat on his back.
But in the process, dean's probing fingers came across something wet and sticky. Pulling his hand back to just in front of his face, he let a stray bolt of lightning illuminate his hand. His fingertips were coated crimson, the sight of which made his stomach churn with discomfort.
He leaned back down and peeled back Sam's sodden jacket to find 5 long claw marks had shredded his shirt and torn open his body. The first of the claw marks started from the middle of his abdomen and stretched to the middle of his back.
The last claw mark was around the top of his waist, the first around the bottom of his chest the other three were spaced evenly between. All of which bled profusely and looked sore as hell.
Dean bit his bottom lip and chewed anxiously.
Sammy was hurt….AGAIN!
'Oh god….what am I gonna do? Oh shit….oh shit, oh shit, oh shit' was the repeated mantra in Dean's head,
He was expecting Sam to do only one thing, the one thing that Dean didn't want him to do.
What he didn't expect was for Sam to do the opposite. He woke up.
He suddenly groaned and his eyes fluttered open. Dean's own eyes widened, unbelieving at his brother's conscious state.
"Sammy?" he asked feebly.
"It's Sam….ugh….what….what?" Sam muttered, raising a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the freezing rain.
Dean let out a massive sigh of relief and thanked any power that had blessed him with his one wish at that moment. After taking the second for himself, Dean switched back into big brother mode and gave Sam his most re-assuring smile.
"Don't worry Sammy. Had a little set back is all. Just got a little mauled by a Demonic bitch from hell, but you're alright." Dean said.
Sam chuckled slightly, and smiled.
"How d'you get mauled a little?" he asked.
Grinning, Dean waved a hand at the bloody mess beside them.
"Ask her. She should know. Oh….wait….I blew her brains up." Dean said enthusiastically.
Sam gave him a frank look.
"You're disturbing." He muttered, his eyes sliding closed.
Upon seeing this, Dean grabbed hold of Sam's good shoulder and squeezed.
"Hey…stay with me man" he said, trying to keep the worry from his voice, but it bled into every syllable, making him sound desperate.
Slowly the brown orbs opened again, frequent lightning flashes highlighting the dilated and un-evenly so pupils. Dean clenched his jaw shut at the thought of the heavy concussion. It would make things so much harder, in general. Dean steeled himself against all the negative thoughts and leaned forwards, close to Sam's beaten body.
"Hey….I think it's time we took our leave. What do ya think?" he asked.
Sam nodded agreement; pleased with the level of Sam's coherency, dean put his arm around Sam's shoulder and began to lift him up.
He got him to a sitting position before he stopped due to Sam's ragged, rapid attempts to take in air.
The last thing they needed was for Sam to pass out from hyper-ventilation.
"Calm down Sam. It's alright, just breathe through the pain. It'll go away, I promise." Dean cooed, rubbing soothing circles on his back.
He glanced at Sam's face to see his skin shock white and his eyes squeezed shut as he breathed through his mouth.
For the first time in a while, Dean took notice of a thunderclap, the way it echoed after such a vicious noise. The way that it seemed to sear the air around him, deafen him and cause a sudden burst of adrenaline in him all at the same time. It was interesting.
"Dee" Sam panted, breaking Dean's thoughts and making his head snap back like an obedient student.
Sam was looking at him now, with weary eyes, dark circles marred the skin under his eyes and the way he seemed to lean heavily against him, all spoke of his lack of strength. The assaulting wave of pain must have drained his depleted reserves dry.
"Can you stand?" Dean asked worriedly, keeping his eye contact with Sam.
"I dunno…..but….I'll try" Sam muttered on little more than a breath.
Dean smiled sadly as he brushed away his brother's unruly hair, the pride that any Winchester had was insurmountable; never would they admit defeat. Never would they crawl or beg or allow another to carry their weight.
They always got up and fought on.
Sam Winchester was no different from Dean or John Winchester in this manner.
Though he was a little more flexible, more sensible. He'd walk, but Dean would support him all the way.
It was only his brother that would do this, no other family member. Just Dean.
Dean cleared his throat, and swept aside the thoughts of his family to concentrate on the matter at hand.
"Just….let me get you up, alright? Tell me when it gets too much and I'll carry you. I don't want your ass passing out on me. You stay awake" Dean ordered, leaving no room for discussion.
He doubted Sam had the energy to do little more than breathe and blink, but just in case.
When the half nod came, Dean braced himself for the added weight.
"Three…two…one…up" he counted and hauled Sam to his feet.
Sam let out a slight moan, holding the scream down in his chest .
But Dean knew it had cause pain to rip into Sam's body and drain him to well beyond exhausted.
His lanky body sagged against Dean's more sturdy frame as his consciousness wavered.
"Ah! Awake Sam! You have to stay awake!!" Dean barked the reprimand loudly and got the desired effect.
Strength seemed to trickle back into Sam, however little it was, but he was able to gain balance and lift his head from his chest.
"M'sorry" he breathed as he raised his eyes to look at Dean.
"Don't worry Sam, just stay awake. And lets get moving. Don't wanna catch pneumonia out here. Not with these wounds. Would be a hell of a time" Dean brushed off he apology and shouldered a little more of Sam's weight.
They spent a little amount of time making sure they were ready to move, bracing Sam for the pain and balancing Dean's additional weight.
"Right kiddo. You ready for this" the eldest said.
The hesitation before the answer spoke volumes of his lack of preparation , but no matter how long they waited, Sam was never going to be ready. It wasn't something that you could truly prepare yourself for. He was ready as he was ever going to be/
Dean simply nodded and shifted Sam a little before taking the first step.
It was going to be the hardest part, but the eldest was certain that if Sam could take the first step, the others would be easier on him.
Slowly, Sam's foot came forwards and he placed it in front of him. Dean moved his own weight forwards, pulling Sam along with him.
Instantly Sam's hand fisted into Dean's jacket and his whole body tensed as the movement tore pain through his battered midsection. He eyes squeezed shut and his breaths came in harsh pants again.
It was too much to ask; Sam was way too weak to deal with the pain.
So his body shut down. His legs stopped working and his head dropped. All of his weight now was on Dean, who was unprepared.
"Sam! No, come on man! Stay awake., don't go to sleep." He cried as he struggled with the sudden increase of weight.
But despite his best efforts, Sam sank to the ground, his legs folding beneath him, dragging Dean down too. Yet he remained sitting, clinging to consciousness to the best of his ability.
"Sammy?" Dean asked, probing his brother asking if he could or couldn't.
Sam shook his head, still struggling with breathing, he conveyed the message that he couldn't walk and he was more than sorry. That he was ashamed.
Dean put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
"It's alright. I'll carry you." Dean breathed.
But as Dean gathered Sam in his arms, neither noticed the low guttural growl of fury from the male Hell Hound, his prey was right where he wanted it and he took off running.
Sam was pretty out of it, pain sparked his vision with black spots as Dean gently gathered him for transportation.
Aside from the pain was the shame that Sam harboured over his failure to walk.
He'd given in to the pain so easily, he was relying solely on Dean to help move him to the Impala.
Being a Winchester, he should be stronger, he should have been able to walk. But he was too weak, too beaten.
Why did he have to let Dean down, he was constantly letting him down, Dean never seemed to let Sam down. Never gave into the pain, never collapsed.
Just kept fighting, kept taking bone breaking hits and kept walking.
Sam suddenly hissed as Dean touched his side.
"Sorry Sammy. Almost ready" Dean soothed.
The constant contact with his elder brother soothed him a little, lulled him into a sense of security,
But then Dean gave a cry and Sam could no longer feel him making the final preparations.
Sam registered the cry as one of shock and pain, with that thought acknowledged, Sam's memory returned.
There had been two Hell Hounds, Dean had killed one, which meant that the remaining Hound was close by. Probably now enraged over the death of its partner; enraged at the killer.
Sam's arms began to work, out of sheer desperation. His dislocated shoulder screamed protest and half of his body collapsed back into the mud. He was too weak to get up.
Hopefully, somehow Dean had managed to get free and kill the bastard without a grenade.
But these hopes were dashed as a strangled scream erupted from his brother not ten feet away
The scream of utter pain and desperation clawed its way into Sam's heart and began pushing adrenaline around his weak body. Slowly he rose to his feet, wearily, swaying.
He hunched over, his bad arm, covering his ribs as an act of protection. Slowly he drew his silver pistol.
Knowing full well that the bullets would not harm the forsaken beast, but they might serve as distraction. It might save Dean's life, Sam aimed the gun in the direction of the heavy breathing and fired.
The shot could be heard perhaps up to twenty feet away, as the storm began to pick up pace. Above, the crashing thunder and driving winds. Sam heard the howl of an angered beast.
'Time to go' Sam thought to himself.
Using his burst of adrenaline, Sam began to stagger away, hoping the beast would humour him, giving Dean enough time to lob another grenade down it's throat or get away.
Blood had soaking his blue jeans a crimson shade as blood flowed from the bite wound in his lower legs. Dean arched his back, intent on kicking the Hound away with his good leg, Yet his attempts to free himself served as another irritant for the irate dog.
Death seemed a certainty for Dean as the teeth came closer and closer to his neck, where no doubt it would rip his throat out, leaving him to die a very slow and agonizingly painful death. While that happened, it would finish Sam off for it's its partner.
Damn the Demonic dogs were smart, they knew exactly how to get under his skin.
Everything did that, everything seemed to attack Sam, tear him up so bad
Dean had always saved him, now he couldn't. He was as helpless as a new born child.
A sudden gun shot rang out and the creature howled, an ear splitting, bone jarring cry that made Dean's head throb with the prospect of a headache the size of the actual source.
The massive beast turned and left Dean on his back
The gun shot could have only come from one source, the only other living things for a five mile radius.
Sammy and his silver pistol.
What the hell was that kid thinking?!
The Hound would surely attack him, no matter if he was moving or not, it would kill him.
Dean's body involuntarily tensed when he realized that Sam was sacrificing himself to save Dean. Not going to happen.
He ignored the blinding pain as he dragged himself up to a standing position.
The clouds suddenly parted and the moon light shone down, lighting up the scene before him, almost as if god or whatever power there was wanted him to see.
Perhaps 300 feet away, Sam stood on the edge of the river, the raging water behind him. He stood facing the last hell Hound; who was crouched down, eyeing Sam warily.
Dean took a single, shaking step forwards, towards his brother.
Yet it was never going to be enough.
The Hell Hound exulted in a murderous cry of infinite fury as it raised its twisted features to the pure white moon then it lowered its head and in a flurry of fur and claws and teeth and bone, it ran full speed at Sam, who remained stock still.
At the last possible second, Sam's arm shot out and the small gleam of the special silver pistol was glimpsed as the second shot was taken of the night.
It would also be it's last.
The bullet struck gold and the Hell Hound reared in pain, freezing before it could take Sam. It howled in pain and clawed at its face, in some king of maddened frenzy.
Daring to hope, Dean let a smile break onto his face. Perhaps Sam's bullet had been guided by luck, perhaps there was no Winchester curse.
Perhaps Sam was safe.
But deception was a cruel mistress.
No sooner had the optimistic thoughts entered his mind, did the Hell Hound return to Sam. It dropped back to its usual four legged position, then raised a single paw, high above its head. Sam couldn't possibly move in time, even if things seemed to slow right down for Dean.
Then in a manner all too quick as if disposing of garbage, the claw lashed out, striking Dean's little brother.
Sam's body reacted to the blow, his head snapping back and he fell limply into the deep, dark rushing waters of the river.
Another primal scream of denial erupted from Dean and he ran forwards.
Paying no attention to his damaged leg, he sprinted across the field. The Hell Hound was wounded, and had no intention of dying.
It scampered off into the darkness, disappearing like a shadow from whence it came.
Dean reached the waters edge a total of 20 seconds after Sam had fallen, but it felt like a life time.
He collapsed onto the bank, and leaned forwards peering into the blackness for his brother.
Yet he found nothing.
"SAM?!" he yelled, desperation seeking into his voice.
There was no reply, just the constant deep roar of the river.
"SAMMY!!" Dean screamed, leaning forwards, wishing, praying that his voice would carry to Sam and he'd call back.
But no reply came.
No reply would come.
This was something Dean knew, though it didn't stop him screaming his brother's name into the night air, praying for a response.
Screaming until he was hoarse and he remained by the river even longer than that. He was going to stay until Sam came back.
Silent burning tears began to cut across his cheeks as he roared, tears for his missing brother.
Over head, thunder rumbled distantly.
The storm was moving on.
Was that cruel or was that cruel!!! AHAHAHAA
Sorri, but Sammy is gone...for a while. I'm not sure if I am going to do a sequal. I haven't done one yet.
But...I've got other things I'm writing about. Like Kingdom hearts...awesome. Might post it, might not. I'm indesicive.
Merry Christmas and Happy holidays, where ever you are.