The darkness inside him roars its triumph, stretching wings not yet clipped until the ceiling cracks over all their heads, the windows of the little chapel bursting out into the night. Dean has no breath left for screaming, body overwhelmed and sagging into the many hands he can feel all over him, holding down, hanging on, but he's slipping. He's just so fucking tired.
He doesn't feel it when the demon lifts its head, blind behind black eyes that dance with malicious laughter at the sight of not one Winchester bleeding and broken, but two.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2013-04-18 06:07 pm (UTC)He doesn't feel it when the demon lifts its head, blind behind black eyes that dance with malicious laughter at the sight of not one Winchester bleeding and broken, but two.