Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
E/O Challenge: Skeptical. 1 x 100 & 2 x 200 word, somewhat unlikely, drabbles. #1: Sam's recovering. #2: Sam's got an admirer. #3: Sam's depressed. All set now-ish, no spoilers.
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You're Just Too Good to be True
"So if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it's real" – 'Can't Take My Eyes Off You', Frankie Valli
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A/N: Sam's recovering. 200 words.
Brother Stands for Comfort
"At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive" – 'Can't Take My Eyes Off You', Frankie Valli
Sam arose from the depths of unconsciousness, only to arrive in a whole world of hurt.
It took a moment for his eyes to grow accustomed to the harsh light of his surroundings. Even though his vision was too blurred to make out specific details, he realized, with a sinking feeling, that he was laid up in a hospital room.
"He's in agony," he heard Dean snarl at the hovering medical staff.
Almost immediately, a warm fuzzy feeling rushed across him and the pain seemed to retreat. Ah, sweet Mother Morphine, he giggled, only to groan as, even floating in the warm bosom of medication, he still felt terrible.
"Sammy? You're gonna be okay," Dean promised, gripping his hand in a hold that was just the wrong side of too tight.
He blinked blearily at his brother standing over him, before taking a brief, almost disinterested, look down at his battered body. What he could discern beneath layers of bandages, tubes, and wires didn't look good. He raised one silent, skeptical eyebrow.
"Hey! When have I ever lied to you?"
Sam gave a snort as he pressed the drug pump. He let his head drop back and closed his eyes.
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A/N: Sam's got an admirer. 100 words. Outsider point of view.
Nice to Meat You
"The sight of you leaves me weak, there are no words left to speak" – 'Can't Take My Eyes Off You', Frankie Valli
Hector fidgeted under the scrutiny of the FBI agents. But he wasn't worried.
Nah, agents Starling and Crawford seem way too skeptical to believe in any of that 'supernatural nonsense'.
He rubbed his chest. He'd guzzled the remains of his meal before answering the door and boy, did he have indigestion now.
He blushed as he belched. The tough-talking agent chuckled, but the taller one looked disgusted.
Wow, he's really big, Hector drooled, wondering how to persuade the giant in, while getting rid of the partner.
He was still starving, and he'd never shifted into someone from law enforcement before.
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A/N: Sam's depressed. Set in my occasional 'Sam the Cat' series. 200 words.
Fishing for Compliments
"You'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much" – 'Can't Take My Eyes Off You', Frankie Valli
Dean glanced over to where Sam was sitting, just staring out of the window with a sullen expression. On attempting to give his brother a comforting pet, the cat got up, cast a sour look in his direction, and stalked off.
Dean turned to Castiel with a shrug and, although he tried to hide it, an obvious expression of hurt.
"I'm worried about him, too," said Castiel, in response. "Do you think he could be ill?"
"I guess being stuck as a cat is getting him down," Dean sighed.
Castiel mused on that for a while. "I know what might cheer him up." He left the room and returned a moment later with an opened tin of gourmet tuna.
Dean flinched at the overpowering smell. "I don't think that's gonna work," he said in a skeptical tone. "You know how Sammy's always had a really sensitive stomach..."
Castiel gave a look of smug triumph as Sam crept back into the room and allowed the angel to feed him a small morsel of the fish, before yowling for more.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Knowing my luck he's gonna just puke it back up on my side of the bed."
(;,;)
