A/N: In which Mad tries to be Joyce Carol Oates, and Dean sneezes.
Nobody moves. Nobody breathes, and Sam stares at Dean and Dean stares at Sam in this dark corner of the subway station, three a.m., abandoned not counting (thhhk, thhhhk: dragging footsteps) the wraith, the wraith that's sniffing them out. Sam's sweating and Dean's sweating and Dean's up against the tiles and Sam's got him pinned there, has got his finger jammed up under Dean's nose, Dean's flushed nose that wants so badly to sneeze. Watery eyed, Dean's biting his lip, he's stepping on his own big toe.
Hhh-hh-HHH...
ThhhHHK, THHHKK...
It drifts one step past... two... three.
"HHH-H-HAAATT-CHSHHCHCHHHOOOOOO!"
They're running.