Challenge Words: Spurt and Blob
Warnings/Spoilers: MAJOR SPOILERS for season 11, especially 11.20 "Don't Call Me Shurley"
200 words per MS Word Count
Pocketful of Miracles
Sam strode into his room, Fed shirt in hand. After grabbing a bottle of cologne from his dresser top, he smoothed his shirt out on the bed. He liberally spurted cologne on the white shirt. Even in podunk towns like Hope Springs, the FBI didn't show up reeking of beer.
Sam changed into his freshly-ironed suit, then returned to his dresser. Impulsively, he opened the top drawer and felt underneath for the hidden pouch, then dumped its contents into his hand. He'd thought about returning Dean's amulet after the Supernatural musical in Flint, and after their long drive to Oregon, but never had. Something told him that now, this case, was the right time. Intuition wasn't just for women, right? He heard Dean's teasing "Samantha" as he tucked the amulet into his pocket.
SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN*
Dean cursed the white blob of not-fog even as he continued to hold onto Sam's thrashing body. He screamed at Amara to stop this, but the bitch did nothing. Dean clung to Sam, urging him with words and touch to stay here, but he felt Sam slipping away. Then Sam's pocket glowed, and Dean pulled out his long-lost amulet, a radiating blob of white. They were saved.
A/N: More spoilers ahead, so you've been warned. I'm sort of an undergound member of #NeverChuck but since the show has gone that route, I'm along for the ride. This drabble is rooted in Metatron's cutting off Chuck when he wanted to divulge where the amulet has been hiding and my personal head-canon that Sammy would've never left the amulet in that trash can.
A/N2: Happy Mother's Day! Give your mom a hug or call if you haven't already done so, and you're lucky enough that she's still around to be appreciated.
A/N3: Since I'm busy this evening, I'm trying the timed post option, so huge apologies if I messed it up and this gets posted before 6.