DING DONG DEAN
WOW: blow. After a lively hunt in a graveyard, it sounds like Sam's in for a long night ...
Disclaimer: I don't own them
xxxxx
Sam cringed as the ghost threw Dean across the graveyard, and his head hit a nearby tombstone with a dull thud.
Throwing a lit match into the grave beside him, he barely paused to watch the grey shade that loomed over Dean's prone body vaporise into a burst of orange sparks.
Sam knelt, helping Dean to his feet, and noting the purple graze across his cheekbone.
"That was a hell of a blow you took there, dude."
"M'okay," Dean murmured woozily; "hey, ain't it a bit late to be ringing the church bells?"
Sam sighed; okay, concussion watch tonight then.
xxxxx
end