Challenge WOW: Drip

Summary: Sam has to make a decision, Dean or Demon Blood.

Word count: 339

Et Tu, Sam?

The room was almost dead silent. The only sound was the slow, steady dripping of the leaky sink in the bathroom.

Sam was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking down at his dormant phone, waiting, waiting, waiting…

Dean was asleep, he'd been that way for a few hours. He'd drank about a quarter of a bottle of whiskey, but Sam pretended not to notice. That, and he was more worried about his own problems, like when the hell Ruby was going to call. That's why he was up so late, staring at his phone.

Dean whimpered as soon as his phone received a text message. Sam glanced over his shoulder at his brother, who's face was screwed up in fear and discomfort. He opened the message, which gave an address. He stood.

Dean whimpered again, louder this time, more frantic. Sam looked down at his phone. He grabbed his jacket and the keys to the Impala. He'd be back before morning, before Dean could notice.

"Sammy…" Dean moaned, rolling over. Sam could see his entire face now, and he was shaking. Sam hesitated at the door, keys to the Impala in his hand. His phone vibrated in his pocket. Dean was whimpering and slowly curling into a ball. "Sam!" The word came out as a dry sob. His phone vibrated again.

He grabbed the doorknob and twisted, trying to block out Dean's whimpers. When his phone vibrated yet another time he stepped out the door, closing it behind him, cutting off Dean's plea.

"Sammy, please help me…"

The Impala started and he drove away.

Dean sat up in his bed, breathing hard, trembling and sweating.

"Sammy?" His voice was small and quivering. He looked around and saw no one. Sam's bed was empty and the bathroom was dark and open. A tear trekked down his cheek. "Sammy?"

But he was alone. And the only sound that accompanied him while he quietly cried himself to sleep was the slow, steady drip of the sink.


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