Take 4: (Supernatural Edition)

Okay, this is the challenge:

I set my mp3 on shuffle,

Using the title of the song as a prompt I write a drabble

I only have the length of the song in question to complete it…

I own no rights to the songs, or the characters.

Diamond Dogs – Beck

They still haunted his dreams – the Hell Hounds. Invisible and raging; every night he closed his eyes to see them rip at Dean's skin, drawing his blood and taking his life.

Even with Dean back by his side, he could still hear them howl in the night.

More than once he had crawled in beside his unconscious brother and held him as he slept – determined they would never touch him again.

One night Dean had woken to find him there. Instead of booting his ass from the bed, he had pulled him closer and buried his head in Sam's warm neck.

Maybe if he clung to something real – something worth living for – they wouldn't be able to claim him: those Hell Hounds, those Diamond Dogs.

Deep And Meaningless – Rooster

Sam rolled over to watch Dean sleeping in the light of the moon. He curled his arms beneath his pillow and drew it up to himself; pooling his face in its warmth.

Dean. Dean, who had saved his life so many times. Dean, who had given his life for him. Dean, who had faced the pits of hell.

Sam let a tear trickle into the feathers.

Dean was his brother, his best friend. He was his everything.

And as Sam watched him toss and turn in a drink induced coma, random perfume lingering on his skin, he knew that not only was his love for Dean deep – it was meaningless.

No Love – Eminem

Dean was in current possession of many emotions – he hated the sonofabitch who had killed his mother and taken his father.

He pure adored his precious Impala.

He drew from his pent up aggression when fighting; when destroying.

He threw his passion into random girls. He threw his anger at the monsters that destroyed his world.

At the angels who were trying to dictate his life.

But love? He had no love for anyone or anything but Sam. Sammy. His baby brother. High on blood, half demonic Sammy. Whatever happened, whatever the end brought, he would still fight those demons – for Sam.

He would still defy those angels – for Sam.

He would bite back his harsh comments about addiction, about Ruby, just for Sam.

He was his ward. He was his life. He was the reason Dean broke that 'No Love' rule.

I Don't Wanna Go On With You Like That – Elton John

Sam was feed up – fed up of being Dean's fall back.

He didn't exactly complain, what with Dean's tongue in his mouth and hand down his trousers, but later in the night he would lie there in the stickiness and the sweat and hate his brother.

Hate that he only got to touch him – taste him – when Dean was stone drunk, sexed up, and had failed to pull at the nearest bar.

He couldn't go on like this any longer.

He wanted more. He wanted Dean to choose him when he was stone cold sober. He wanted him to pick Sam even when there were other options rolled out in front of him.

He wanted Dean to love him a fraction of the way he loved his big brother.

He threw Dean off of himself and headed for a shower; promising that next time he would say 'no'. Next time he would demand that 'more'.

But he knew, even as he thought it, that he was lying to himself. He would say nothing of the sort.

He never did.

Two Out Of Three Ain't Bad – Meat Loaf

Sam hadn't been what Dean would term 'loyal' recently. He had left him to shack up with a demon, drank her blood, and then kick-started the apocalypse.

And Dean had had it up to here.

He needed his brother. Yes, he may have been his weakness; but he knew he fought better with Sam by his side. Sam wasn't a fall back plan: Sam was a certainty.

At least until recently.

The nightmares had finally stopped; Dean no longer had to watch his little brother toss and turn in agony and then wake to a world he felt he had to personally save.

And he knew Sam still loved him. Always.

And as Dean glanced across at him in the front seat of the Impala, he supposed that, loyalty aside, two out of three wasn't that bad.

The Way The World Works – Pixie Lott

Why it was still their job was anybody's guess.

The yellow-eyed demon had died years ago – revenge had been had. It had tasted bitter; like blood. It should have been enough, but it wasn't.

So they were back on the road; their bodies a little older, their souls a little more destroyed. Hunting demons. Fighting evil. Together: all that was left.

It would have been nice to stop and make a home. Have 2.5 kids and a dog.

But they knew it wasn't to be; for some unfathomable reason they were the only ones who could save the entire population.

That was just the way the world worked.

Meat Again – Chris Moyles

Sam ordered his infamous cop salad and peered through his bangs as Dean attacked his way through another cheeseburger.

He had barely taken a breath since the first one.

As Sam stuck a piece of lettuce in his mouth – doing an uncanny impression of a cow chewing cud – he wondered how his brother had stayed so fit.

Yes they had to run a lot, and were no doubt subject to some of the most intense impromptu workouts on the planet; but Sam couldn't figure why Dean's heart hadn't given out years ago with all that fat pulsing through his veins.

Dean grinned at him, grease trickling down his chin. It was unbelievable, yet on a diner diet and years of little sleep, Dean had become the best hunter around.

Sam pushed his salad away from him to the raised eyebrows of his brother.

Maybe it was time to try meat again.