SPN Drabble: Sunflowers
Slowly but surely, I'm making my way through my drabble memes.
Title: Sunflowers
Fandom: Supernatural
Word Count: 264
Written for jolinarcarter for the ABC Drabble Meme; she wanted "Allergies"
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sam and Dean belong to Eric Kripke
It was a small thing really, but it was the difference between life and death. Sam swallowed. In order to destroy this ghost, he had to cross a patch of land filled with this thing. He stayed rooted to his spot.
“Come on, Sammy! We haven’t got all day!”
Sam looked up to see Dean waving from the other side. He had that look on his face. The determined “I’m going to kill something” look. Sam took a step back.
“Isn’t there another way across?” he asked.
“Dude, this is the only way, and I can’t dig this son of a bitch up on my own.”
Sam eyed the plant spread out before him. “You remember what happened the last time I stepped in this stuff?”
“What stuff?” Dean paused. Sam decided his brother must have looked down because Dean’s tone changed. “Oh, that stuff. You blew up like a blowfish.”
Sam raised his head to meet Dean’s eyes. “Exactly.”
“Sam,” Dean stuck his shovel into the ground. “Which is more important? Stopping this dead bastard or you protecting your delicate frame?”
“Very funny.”
Sam studied the plant. Dean was right; they had to stop this ghost before it killed again. Sam took a deep breath; he had no choice. Keeping his focus on the other side, he raced through the meadow, not stopping once. When he reached Dean, he inspected his skin to make sure none of the vegetation had touched him.
Dean only shook his head and started for the grave. “Dude, only you would be allergic to sunflowers.”
“Shut up, Dean.”
Title: Sunflowers
Fandom: Supernatural
Word Count: 264
Written for jolinarcarter for the ABC Drabble Meme; she wanted "Allergies"
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sam and Dean belong to Eric Kripke
It was a small thing really, but it was the difference between life and death. Sam swallowed. In order to destroy this ghost, he had to cross a patch of land filled with this thing. He stayed rooted to his spot.
“Come on, Sammy! We haven’t got all day!”
Sam looked up to see Dean waving from the other side. He had that look on his face. The determined “I’m going to kill something” look. Sam took a step back.
“Isn’t there another way across?” he asked.
“Dude, this is the only way, and I can’t dig this son of a bitch up on my own.”
Sam eyed the plant spread out before him. “You remember what happened the last time I stepped in this stuff?”
“What stuff?” Dean paused. Sam decided his brother must have looked down because Dean’s tone changed. “Oh, that stuff. You blew up like a blowfish.”
Sam raised his head to meet Dean’s eyes. “Exactly.”
“Sam,” Dean stuck his shovel into the ground. “Which is more important? Stopping this dead bastard or you protecting your delicate frame?”
“Very funny.”
Sam studied the plant. Dean was right; they had to stop this ghost before it killed again. Sam took a deep breath; he had no choice. Keeping his focus on the other side, he raced through the meadow, not stopping once. When he reached Dean, he inspected his skin to make sure none of the vegetation had touched him.
Dean only shook his head and started for the grave. “Dude, only you would be allergic to sunflowers.”
“Shut up, Dean.”