Poor Sam, with all the whipping and the whole Palo Alto illusion. *narrows eyes* Bad poltergeist. *hisses*
Favorite lines:
Sam strapped a sheathed Bowie knife to his leg and tucked a set of lock picks into the chest pocket of his flannel shirt.
So, what does it say about me that I find that incredibly sexy?
"Sitting on my ass trying to make a blind guess about when to bring you back from the great beyond isn't exactly my idea of effective backup."
*g* Yeah, Dean would hate sitting around and waiting.
Smelling like cheap potpourri wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but at least it was better than smelling like a Chicken McNugget.
LOL!
The whip sliced across his thighs, and he went down screaming. Blood ran down his legs and soaked his jeans.
*winces* Ow!
A searing line of pain between his shoulder blades. Two more across his thighs. Three in a row across the small of his back, until he thought his spine would be ripped out.
Gah … this is brutal. Poor Sam! Maybe the injuries won’t follow him back to the real world.
He'd never before appreciated just how many back muscles were involved in the simple act of breathing. Now he could feel them shifting every time he inhaled, pulling at the stripes left by the whip.
Great details here. They really help one get a sense of Sam’s pain. *winces*
Hauled himself off the bed and took a staggering step toward the door before his legs gave out. Damn, he thought, Dean is going to be so pissed at me.
There was a blinding flash of white light, and then nothing.
Favorite lines:
Sam strapped a sheathed Bowie knife to his leg and tucked a set of lock picks into the chest pocket of his flannel shirt.
So, what does it say about me that I find that incredibly sexy?
"Sitting on my ass trying to make a blind guess about when to bring you back from the great beyond isn't exactly my idea of effective backup."
*g* Yeah, Dean would hate sitting around and waiting.
Smelling like cheap potpourri wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, but at least it was better than smelling like a Chicken McNugget.
LOL!
The whip sliced across his thighs, and he went down screaming. Blood ran down his legs and soaked his jeans.
*winces* Ow!
A searing line of pain between his shoulder blades. Two more across his thighs. Three in a row across the small of his back, until he thought his spine would be ripped out.
Gah … this is brutal. Poor Sam! Maybe the injuries won’t follow him back to the real world.
He'd never before appreciated just how many back muscles were involved in the simple act of breathing. Now he could feel them shifting every time he inhaled, pulling at the stripes left by the whip.
Great details here. They really help one get a sense of Sam’s pain. *winces*
Hauled himself off the bed and took a staggering step toward the door before his legs gave out. Damn, he thought, Dean is going to be so pissed at me.
There was a blinding flash of white light, and then nothing.
Eek! *bites nails*
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