Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. If I did, every dispute between Sam and Dean would be solved by an exuberant game of Ro-Sham-Bo, and there would probably be some Gay Chicken every once in a while.
Challenge Word: Spent
Word Count: 100.
A/N: Awesome! *super high-five* Alright, the reason this is up late is because I had to drive my friends all around the freakin' universe, and then some. I love those guys. But I's tiiiiired. D: So, here it is now. Because I love you guys too. 3
Summary: E/O Challenge: Spent. --Dean hallucinating? Check.--
Backup
(Two nights ago, now technically morning...)
Sam felt like he'd literally spent hours walking back and forth between his ailing brother and the kitchenette, waiting for the water to boil.
Luckily, the poison from the barb in Dean's side wasn't exactly life-threatening, just hallucinogenic; and the cure he was making was fairly straightforward-
THUNK.
Slowly, Sam turned from the kitchenette to find... nothing strange. Dean stared at the ceiling rather nonchalantly. Sam glanced up, then at Dean.
He shrugged, "Lizards".
As if that explained everything. Sam stood on the bed to get the knife from the ceiling, quietly thankful that he had taken Dean's gun.