"Dean-" Sam began in protest, then cut off, gritting his teeth as his brother vanished into the further darkness of the bathroom. "Damn it," he swore, voice pitched vicious but low enough not to carry, barely above a whisper.
He moved towards the door, angling to cut off access to it, preventing a threat from at least one front. Tempted though he was to ignore the direction in favour of not leaving Dean alone with whatever was in the bathroom, his own conscience wouldn't let him abandon Diva to the other things that might be roaming the halls.
This was far too familiar for his liking.
His skin itched, fine hairs prickling at the back of his neck. He could smell it now, the blood, thick in his nostrils and settling on the back of his tongue. It was only long familiarity with dark places and the nightmares they conjured that allowed him to banish the images that tried to spring unbidden to his mind, telling himself that he did not know what was in there, and that daydreaming would be useless.
no subject
He moved towards the door, angling to cut off access to it, preventing a threat from at least one front. Tempted though he was to ignore the direction in favour of not leaving Dean alone with whatever was in the bathroom, his own conscience wouldn't let him abandon Diva to the other things that might be roaming the halls.
This was far too familiar for his liking.
His skin itched, fine hairs prickling at the back of his neck. He could smell it now, the blood, thick in his nostrils and settling on the back of his tongue. It was only long familiarity with dark places and the nightmares they conjured that allowed him to banish the images that tried to spring unbidden to his mind, telling himself that he did not know what was in there, and that daydreaming would be useless.