Drabble number 39 Out of time.
It was late and they simply spoke. They talked about everything they didn't know, clutching to these last hours together, desperate for normalcy.
"I had a diary of thoughts, not girly crap just man stuff." Dean admitted looking into the shocked eyes of his little brother. Suddenly Sam's face turned into a grin. "I stole it once. Nothing manly about love letters to a girl you just met."
Dean stared then eventually laughed.
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
They held onto these moments pretending Dean wasn't about to be ripped away, dragged to hell. The clock struck twelve. Dean was out of time.