Summary: This is a running collection of drabbles, babbles, and other extremely short one-shot fics.
Warning: We whump. It's what we do. Therefore, these are absolutely guaranteed to contain character death, torture, bucketloads of emotional anguish, and anything else we can come up with to hurt or otherwise torture our favorite Winchester brothers. Yes, we are evil like that.
We can also guarantee that there will be absolutely no wincest, Metallicar death, or evil clowns. There are some places even we won't go.
Ratings for individual stories will vary, but probably nothing will be below PG-13/T/whatever they're calling it these days.
Disclaimer: We don't own Supernatural. If we did, Dean would be competing with Daniel Jackson for greatest number of death scenes per series, Sam would get a haircut, and there'd be a lot more gunshot wounds and a lot less clothing.
Authors' Note: As you may or may not figure out, all the individual titles are references to, titles of, and lyrics from various songs that have similar themes to the stories they're titling. Some should be fairly obvious, others may be more obscure. If you can name all the songs, you get, um... an extra cookie!
...what? You didn't get any cookies? Oh, well sorry then.
"Winds talk to my sails, not me..."
by Em
The metal was cold in his hands, weighted unevenly, strangely heavy. As he stood from the hotel bed, his brow wrinkled. He couldn't remember sitting down, didn't remember picking up the gun. He moved to set it back down on the mattress, but his arms froze. Suddenly he felt an uncontrollable urge to rest the muzzle against his chin.
A part of him screamed. No! What the hell are you doing?!
But the rest of him wouldn't listen, nor could his rational mind gain control. Silently, calmly, his body obeyed the impulse.Dean sat back down and the demon smiled.