Three or four days after Dean found her on the floor she was at least able to walk again, to feed herself and use the bathroom, even if she had to sit down in the shower. Even if she got tired pretty quickly. Her memories were coming back, slowly but there, and she could speak again. It was an improvement ( Read more... )

It hurts. Why does it hurt?

And on the third day...It hurt ( Read more... )

"If love is not madness, it is not love."She hadn't liked the conversation much, and yet she had the feeling they would have it again. The insistance that she should find someone else, someone mortal, someone not bound by his restrictions. The determination on her end that she didn't want anyone else, that she was fine with what they had, the ( Read more... )

It was snowing again. Pam pressed her palm to the glass of the window and watched the frost recede milimeters from the edge of her hand. She didn't think anyone would be coming over tonight, but with luck the roads would be clear for everyone to go where they needed to for Chistmas Day Dinner tomorrow. Tonight, dinner had been a plate full of ( Read more... )

Dear Castiel ( Read more... )

Pam raised the rifle to her shoulder, took aim. Fired. And again. And again ( Read more... )

Castiel ( Read more... )

( Letters to Castiel II: God and Man )

The skies were dark enough outside as to make it seem almost night, and Pam had spent a good hour fumbling around the house and closing the storm shutters on all the windows, making sure the draft guard was solid on the door and the outer doors were shut. Not that she expected to be blown away to Oz or anything, but better safe than in a house full ( Read more... )