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SHARDS, SHREDS, SCRAPS
Night

by Sade Lyrate

Sounds of strife and shots drag him from the outskirts of oblivion into the presence of pain and sharp sensations. Too much, and blows he cannot remember receiving make his head dizzy. The place he sees he recalls, the men...not lying around, beaten, bleeding like they are now.

"God, you just had to piss 'em off?" Softly murmured words he hardly catches behind him, familiar cadence besting the hydra-like fears as quick fingers relieve the pressure of the rope on his wrists.

"Sam?"

No answer, but he jerks his arms away, rubbing the sore wrists, flexing his fingers. The younger man shuffles in front of him, stance stiff, arms loose and quick by his sides, new cut in his lip bright, fresh bruises beginning to bloom around hazel eyes as he takes in the state of his brother.

"What happened?" Dean queries carefully, gaze dancing to the door in the corner before returning to read the expression of the other man, not really sure he wanted to know. "You okay?"

Tight smile, eyes as hard as rock, skimming over shadows, edgy to escape.

"He told me to give him as good head as I gave you", Sam says softly, chuckle easy in his voice as he offers a hand to help Dean up. "So I knocked him out."

There's a question in the glance they share, answered in equal silence as the elder man shrugs.
Before the morning breaks, they've left the Hickburg, letting human authorities deal with human trouble.