OOC: Drabble meme
Choose one or a couple of these, and I'll do my best to write a drabble or ficlet with that prompt and my muse and your muse. Let me know if you have stuff to add to the request prompt!
1. Playful!Dean: Sam (winchesterbitch)
2. Murderous!Dean: Elle (welcometo_life)
3. Flailing!Dean: Bela (enjoythe_ride)
4. Incarcerated!Dean: Ben (mini_dean), Bobby (maninflannel)
5. Deviant!Dean
6. Ill!Dean: (Anna - abist_omens7. ( Read more... )
1. Playful!Dean: Sam (winchesterbitch)
2. Murderous!Dean: Elle (welcometo_life)
3. Flailing!Dean: Bela (enjoythe_ride)
4. Incarcerated!Dean: Ben (mini_dean), Bobby (maninflannel)
5. Deviant!Dean
6. Ill!Dean: (Anna - abist_omens7. ( Read more... )
Any doubts, however, that Dean might have had about Sam's determination to deal with his addiction? Justifiably eradicated.
He liked that.
Anyhoo, they'd eventually gotten restless, and a new job had come up, hell, more like they'd decided to finally take a job from all the ones that had come up since the Famine shit.
It was kinda good to be back on track.
The house was supposed to be empty; it looked empty and dark. However, there was a car parked outside of it, and that got both Sam and Dean all ready for whoever was outside.
Not the owner. The owner was dead, and the heir was in Australia. They'd checked.
That left... either another hunter who'd caught onto the same case, which wouldn't be too bad, or somebody helping himself to another person's property.
Not a good idea in this house.
They were moving quietly and together, the way they always did in unknown circumstances, weapons at the ready, flashlights low to not alert whoever was inside too soon, signs and looks enough communication.
Then they rounded a corner, Dean first, and his eyes widened, almost stumbling back and his arms, not letting go of anything, flailing for a moment. The 'whoa' and the swearing was probably more of an alert that somebody was there to the woman in the room, and she turned, blue eyes wide, quickly enough to catch some of that.
"Dean. What?" Sam's whisper was tense as he steadied his brother. Who then purposefully strode into the room.
"What the hell?"
"Hello, Dean."
"Bella?" Sam was half a step behind Dean; he managed not to falter or fumble, but that's because he was prepared for something out of the ordinary. Outer of the ordinary than usual.
"What the hell are you doing here. Abby."
She gave an exasperated sigh. "Well, that's a long story. Do you think this is the place for it?"
"Unless you want to get seven inches of silver inside your ribcage, I suggest you sum it up."
She glared.
Like that ever impressed him.
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