A/N: Still E/O, still "dry," still with the PADavisness and the delirium, but, unrelated story.
A cave, eleven p.m. They find the pixie and snap her wand.
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The woods, midnight. Dean points at the ground and crows, "Check out the little buildings!" Sam cops a forehead feel, but it's just the pixie dust.
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The car, one a.m. Dean's shivering in the backseat, gaping up at the extinguished dome light. "No moon," he says, over and over.
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The motel, two a.m. Dean's draped face-first over the toilet, dry-heaving. Sam's rubbing his back, thumbing Bobby's speed-dial.
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The road, eleven a.m.
"Why'd you inhale?"
Dean shrugs behind his sunglasses. "Thought maybe it'd make me fly?"
Sam doesn't laugh.
end