Happy birthday Supernoodle. I wasn't going to write this week, but a little birdy told me that I had better cos it was your birthday.

I knew then that I had to, for you are so awesome, and have been so great to me. So, this one is for you! Have a super day! xo


John leans over Dean and whispers, "God, what have I done?"


Dean lays there, numb, unconscious, blood seeping through his shirt.

His breathing is labored, and comes in short, raspy bouts, that have John scared out of his mind.

He grabs a bottle of whiskey, a needle and thread, praying he can fix Dean again.

His hands shake with nerves and he curses.

"Damn it Sam."


Sam is miles away, dead asleep in his bed, when he hears a voice.

He bolts upright in his bed.

"Sam?" Jess whispers, used to his nightmares by now.

He takes a sharp breath in and whispers one word only.