WOW: Faint. Happy birthday CiZiwejes. here is a (very tenuously) Western themed drabble for you, hope you have a lovely day.
The Winchesters' latest hunt hasn't gone entirely to plan, and the brothers, one in particular, learn a painful lesson.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrow them occasionally for fun and larks.
Sam's eyes watered in sympathy as he crouched beside his brother's prone, twitching body; kneading the back of Dean's neck, trying to offer a little moral support through the haze of pain.
"You okay, dude?" he asked pointlessly, when it was clear that Dean was anything but.
Dean looked up slowly, wet, green eyes bulging almost comically out of a clammy face, a faint breathless groan accompanying his unconvincing nod as his trembling hands tightened their protective grip around his throbbing vitals.
Well, that was a valuable lesson for future reference …
Ghostly mustangs kick just as hard as real ones.