Warning: Crack and swearing
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The boys don't belong to me. My insurance wouldn't cover them anyway. Except when bringing the Apocalypse counts among public nuisance.
Spoiler: Not really, but I'll make it 422 just to be safe.
Taking the next corner was easier said than done when you didn't have the power to even fucking crawl there. No way to look behind it to see whether it was actually worthwhile to keep walking.
Life was a fucking event. And God was the fucking ticket guy who only cared for full seats. No fucking quality, just fucking quantity?
Fuck, I have to stop swearing. Won't help me with my fucking salvation.
Days bled into each other, every single one greyer and fuzzier and foggier, like reality was testing its leash. How far could it go until Sam pulled it back with a harsh yank to keep it on his side?
Ha! If reality were a Golden Retriever this tactic might work.
Apocalypse was breathing down their necks, offering stinky puffs of decay, accompanied by increased demon activity. Like a shitty trailer for a cheap b-movie. Fucking PR.
He leaned down, felt for his shoes which he had tossed off the bed last night and when he found them he stared at them, wondering why he bothered to wear them. It's not like shoes could save you from self-induced perdition, now would they?
He'd have to google it.
Impressive career he had to his name one way or another.
Got my mom killed. Got my girlfriend killed. Got my father killed. Got myself killed (and obviously did a crap job with it after all). Got Dean killed... like what feels a million times. Will get humankind killed within the next few days, maybe weeks. Dude, can I get a pay raise already?
Oh what the heck! Rome wasn't build on one day either, so why should Hell?
A hysterical giggle threatened to burst from his lips and he suppressed it. Where was sanity when you needed it?
The door opened and his brother entered. Heavy boots making stomping noises on the dirty rug, bringing the odour of fresh brewed coffee.
Speaking of sanity.
„Hey Sammy, got you a Latte Machiavelli thing."
There it is.
Sam would just have to make sure it stayed for a little while longer.