Word of the Week: friend

Word Count: 100

"What's the problem," Bobby asked as he kneeled down on the bathroom floor, staring into dull green eyes.

Dean rolled his head away from Bobby, the taste of bile rising in his throat again. The cold tile floor numbed his hands, but nothing could beat the icy burn that had settled deep in his soul.

"Our friends keep dying," Dean slurred. "Family too."

Bobby sat back. He hated it when Dean got in one of his sad ass, drunken moods. He got ten kinds of reminiscent and that just wasn't healthy for a Winchester.

"I'm not going anywhere," Bobby replied.

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