Wow. I'm actually surprised that people read (and that people ahve me on their favorite authors list! Yay!). Well, far be it for me to deny you another wonderful drabble :)
All he ever wanted was his brother. He didn't want this stranger, though, this mopey, brooding, sad excuse for a hunter. It wasn't Sam, not his Sam. This man, this imposter that wore his brother's face, he didn't care. Sam had always cared about other people, but all this thing wanted was vengeance.
All he ever wanted was his brother. He didn't want this stranger, though, this mopey, brooding, sad excuse for a hunter. It wasn't Sam, not his Sam. This man, this imposter that wore his brother's face, he didn't care. Sam had always cared about other people, but all this thing wanted was vengeance.
He thirsted for vengeance, for that demon's blood to be sprayed all over as he stood and laughed and boasted that it was over. The thirst took him on the road. It took him on the road with his brother. It was because of this that Dean knew he was selfish.
