Title: Faerie Dust
Author: Woodburner
Challenge Word: Dry
Word Count: 100 exactly
Disclaimer: They still aren't mine. I'm just playing with them.
A/N: Happy birthday PA Davis – a little more delirious Dean, just for you.

The air is dry, acrid. Sam can't remember when he last had a drink. Looking at his brother he suspects it was some time after Dean. Dean can't help being overprotective and Sam would bet his last dollar the older man slipped him the last of his water.

His fear is reinforced as Dean stumbles, falling to his knees. His hand splays in the dust, curling into a fist. Dirt trickles from between his fingers and he raises a delighted face to Sam.

"Look, Sammy," he calls, and Sam's heart sinks. "Faerie dust! We can use this to fly home."