The comm hosted this little event a couple of years ago, and as November 2 is an auspicious day for our darling Sam, today would be the perfect time to revisit this challenge. Welcome to the Triple Play 2015!
FILLED: Sick City 1/2fireheart13November 2 2015, 20:38:05 UTC
“Dean, you go ahead.” Sam closed his eyes, stifling the moan that filled his throat. The pain was sharp, knife-sharp, ice-pick sharp; if he lay perfectly still, it eased somewhat, but only enough to lull him into thinking it was gone.
It wasn't gone.
Sam bit his lips, praying for Dean just to leave their room, go on down to the blackjack and poker tables. For him to go guzzle some free whiskey and hook up with some showgirl or craps groupie and get laid. For him to leave Sam to his quiet misery, stretched out on the softest bed he'd slept in in a year, air conditioning quietly blowing cool air over Sam's over-heated skin.
Just goThe pain receded, and Sam shakily exhaled. He knew he shouldn't have eaten so much last night, but they'd been starving when they'd pulled in after midnight. Dean had been hot to trot about their annual Vegas week, their 'vacation' from hunting, a week of wine, women, and song. Or, in Dean's case, whiskey, women, and whatever game he could win at. Sam had felt some pangs in his middle, but written them off
( ... )
RE: FILLED: Sick City 2/2fireheart13November 2 2015, 20:39:09 UTC
He must have dozed off before Dean left, because the next time he opened his eyes, the room was empty. Unfortunately, he'd woken up due to fresh jagged pains arcing inside him. He groaned out loud, turning on his side and curling up, wrapping his arms around his torso. Acrid bubbles churned in his stomach, and he knew he was going to vomit any second. He barely made it out of bed, grabbing the wastepaper basket and retching so hard he thought his eyes might pop right out.
When he was done, he lay on the floor, feeling too dizzy and weak to attempt getting into the bed. He was sweating heavily; his skin felt hot to his own palm, and his t-shirt was soaked through.
This isn't flu. He pushed himself into a sitting position, back against the bed, and fumbled around on the nightstand for his phone. He cursed as he grasped it an it slipped from his shaky fingers. Clicking it on, he swiped on Dean's number and thumbed sick need help. Before he let the phone drop, he managed one more word.
sorryThe next time his eyes opened, they felt
( ... )
RE: FILLED: Sick City 2/2quickreaverNovember 2 2015, 21:10:57 UTC
YOU ARE SO FAST! And perfectly delightful! Dean was most excellent in this, from checking his teeth in the mirror to popping into view as Sam came 'round in the hospital. I just loved him! I loved it all.
RE: FILLED: Hour of Darkness 2/2hugglewolfNovember 3 2015, 05:54:34 UTC
*sniffle* That was so sad and heartwarming all at the same time, and a really nice touch having him never seeing Mary but choosing to believe it was real (and I think it was, Sam, I think it was).
Twist in the WindthursdaysistersNovember 3 2015, 15:57:15 UTC
A cadre of thugs armed with shotguns and dogs peered over the edge and, satisfied that the Impala would burn for a good while, made their way back to the birthday party. They only needed one Winchester anyhow
( ... )
Comments 748
2. Jess
3. Car accident.
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2.) Dean
3.) Gall stones
(I have no idea...)
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It wasn't gone.
Sam bit his lips, praying for Dean just to leave their room, go on down to the blackjack and poker tables. For him to go guzzle some free whiskey and hook up with some showgirl or craps groupie and get laid. For him to leave Sam to his quiet misery, stretched out on the softest bed he'd slept in in a year, air conditioning quietly blowing cool air over Sam's over-heated skin.
Just goThe pain receded, and Sam shakily exhaled. He knew he shouldn't have eaten so much last night, but they'd been starving when they'd pulled in after midnight. Dean had been hot to trot about their annual Vegas week, their 'vacation' from hunting, a week of wine, women, and song. Or, in Dean's case, whiskey, women, and whatever game he could win at. Sam had felt some pangs in his middle, but written them off ( ... )
Reply
He must have dozed off before Dean left, because the next time he opened his eyes, the room was empty. Unfortunately, he'd woken up due to fresh jagged pains arcing inside him. He groaned out loud, turning on his side and curling up, wrapping his arms around his torso. Acrid bubbles churned in his stomach, and he knew he was going to vomit any second. He barely made it out of bed, grabbing the wastepaper basket and retching so hard he thought his eyes might pop right out.
When he was done, he lay on the floor, feeling too dizzy and weak to attempt getting into the bed. He was sweating heavily; his skin felt hot to his own palm, and his t-shirt was soaked through.
This isn't flu. He pushed himself into a sitting position, back against the bed, and fumbled around on the nightstand for his phone. He cursed as he grasped it an it slipped from his shaky fingers. Clicking it on, he swiped on Dean's number and thumbed sick need help. Before he let the phone drop, he managed one more word.
sorryThe next time his eyes opened, they felt ( ... )
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Kudos all over the place to you!
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2.) Brady
3.) Chronic insomnia
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2. Mary.
3. Fever dream.
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2.) the ghost of Sarah Blake
3.) broken bones
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