Just back from a very relaxing family holiday in Cornwall. Didn't get the chance to join in with the drabbles whilst away so decided to write the following Triabble using the latest 3 drabble words – stave, camp & nip.

Hope this makes sense.

Whiskey and Tylenol

Another empty whiskey bottle; another empty packet of Tylenol. For a while Dean's new pain relief strategy seemed to be working; a couple of tablets every few hours washed down with several glasses of whiskey had managed to stave off much of the pain– until now.

Now, despite the double dose, he lay in agony, his sweat drenched body shivering despite the extra blankets. His arm felt like it was on fire. What he'd thought was "just a scratch" was now an enflamed, puss-seeping, wound.

No doubt about it he was in trouble and he needed help – he needed Sammy.


The next diner stop had offered up their next case – a local newspaper reporting the savage attacks of a wild animal across two consecutive nights. Since the moon was full on both occasions it seemed more than obvious that monster-of-the-week was a Werewolf.

Posing as FBI agents they soon had all they needed to start tracking the Fugly. The attacks had taken place in a park on the outskirts of town. They drove over, picked a secluded spot and camped up waiting for nightfall; waiting for the sonovabitch to show itself.

Hours later two blood-red eyes shone in the moonlight.


They eased themselves from the car both focussed on the massive creature as it moved towards them. It sprang, knocking Dean to the ground, its slavering jaw seeking the older Winchester's jugular.

Sam fired, frightened it off.

"It get you," he asked, pulling Dean to his feet.

"Nah." It was a lie. Razor sharp teeth had nipped him.

He should've told Sammy – he knew that now as he reached for his phone. But the distance was too great. He over balanced, toppled to the floor.

He never felt his brother's arms lift him and lay him gently on the bed.