So I will gladly hunt you down [And I'm gonna stomp you into the ground]
[Chase Them]
The water is slimy and he doesn’t want to think what it tastes like. His palms are scraped and his clothes are soaked. This is why Sam hates chasing things. He’s got long legs and he’s pretty fast but he’s not always the most graceful guy in the world. Lack of grace is what lands him face first in three inches of brackish, sewer water.
“Sam, what the hell are you doing? He’s getting away.” Dean grabs him and hauls him to his feet.
“I fell,” Sam responds as he stumbles after Dean.
“Dude, you did not pick up another rabbit’s foot.”
“No,” Sam says in a tone that clearly implies Dean is an idiot.
They skid around the corner, Sam catching himself against the wall. Dean shoots him a wtf is wrong with you look but he doesn’t have time to say anything because the Rawhide is breathing down their neck. Monsters don’t like being cornered.
It lunges at them, knocking Dean hard against the wall and tackling Sam, his gun skitters across the floor and now his back is soaked with nasty water. Pain blossoms along his shoulder and across his chest, followed by thick, wet warm that isn’t brackish sewer water. The small space echoes with the sound of gunshots and the body of the Rawhide falls on him. The smell and the weight on his chest make it difficult to breathe until Dean pulls the body off him and drops it in the water. He grabs Sam’s hand and pulls him to his feet.
“Dude, you smell like ass,” Dean said as they started walking back to the Impala.
“Smelled a lot of ass, Dean?” Sam smirked, He was pissed off and in pain. The Rawhide had cut him from shoulder to opposite hip. It was a shallow cut and the bleeding had already slowed. It still stung, dirty water and dirty clothes didn’t help. All in all, they’d come out of it okay. Dean’s cheek was beginning to bruise and his torso and shoulder would probably be scattered with black and blue but no one needed stitches or a hospital. It was a good hunt.
“I’ve smelled what comes out of your ass when you’ve had extra onions. You know how to stink up a motel room.”
“Dude, you’re the one with the extra onions fetish,” Sam chuckled, putting his hand to his chest. They could see the entrance to the drainage pipe they’d followed to the sewer and the ground beneath them was a bit more dry and littered with beer cans. The Rawhide had been able to kill the kids so easily because they came here to drink, make out and do everything else none of the adults in town would let them do.
“It’s not a fetish. It’s a craving, get it right,” Dean grinned. He smacked Sam on the shoulder. “Come on, Sammy, let’s get you cleaned up and get out of here. There’s no way I’m riding all that way with your smelly ass.”
The water is slimy and he doesn’t want to think what it tastes like. His palms are scraped and his clothes are soaked. This is why Sam hates chasing things. He’s got long legs and he’s pretty fast but he’s not always the most graceful guy in the world. Lack of grace is what lands him face first in three inches of brackish, sewer water.
“Sam, what the hell are you doing? He’s getting away.” Dean grabs him and hauls him to his feet.
“I fell,” Sam responds as he stumbles after Dean.
“Dude, you did not pick up another rabbit’s foot.”
“No,” Sam says in a tone that clearly implies Dean is an idiot.
They skid around the corner, Sam catching himself against the wall. Dean shoots him a wtf is wrong with you look but he doesn’t have time to say anything because the Rawhide is breathing down their neck. Monsters don’t like being cornered.
It lunges at them, knocking Dean hard against the wall and tackling Sam, his gun skitters across the floor and now his back is soaked with nasty water. Pain blossoms along his shoulder and across his chest, followed by thick, wet warm that isn’t brackish sewer water. The small space echoes with the sound of gunshots and the body of the Rawhide falls on him. The smell and the weight on his chest make it difficult to breathe until Dean pulls the body off him and drops it in the water. He grabs Sam’s hand and pulls him to his feet.
“Dude, you smell like ass,” Dean said as they started walking back to the Impala.
“Smelled a lot of ass, Dean?” Sam smirked, He was pissed off and in pain. The Rawhide had cut him from shoulder to opposite hip. It was a shallow cut and the bleeding had already slowed. It still stung, dirty water and dirty clothes didn’t help. All in all, they’d come out of it okay. Dean’s cheek was beginning to bruise and his torso and shoulder would probably be scattered with black and blue but no one needed stitches or a hospital. It was a good hunt.
“I’ve smelled what comes out of your ass when you’ve had extra onions. You know how to stink up a motel room.”
“Dude, you’re the one with the extra onions fetish,” Sam chuckled, putting his hand to his chest. They could see the entrance to the drainage pipe they’d followed to the sewer and the ground beneath them was a bit more dry and littered with beer cans. The Rawhide had been able to kill the kids so easily because they came here to drink, make out and do everything else none of the adults in town would let them do.
“It’s not a fetish. It’s a craving, get it right,” Dean grinned. He smacked Sam on the shoulder. “Come on, Sammy, let’s get you cleaned up and get out of here. There’s no way I’m riding all that way with your smelly ass.”